The Rain

The following was posted on the online forum DarkConfessions.com by an anonymous user. The entry was posted on August 24rd, 2017. It reads as follows.

48 hours. That’s how long they say a missing person will last. The news says Rita Helen was last seen August 7th. 2 weeks she's been gone. Actually, 2 weeks and 3 days. I’m posting here because I know something about Rita Helen. Something I need to get off my chest. I can’t go to the police. No, the police in this town…They already know what happened. And this isn’t the first time either. Every few months, the TV screen reads the same thing, “Missing. Call this line if you have anything that could help.” Every few months the town forms a search party, and the sheriff’s office would begin another round of questioning, and in the end the hum of a missing person would fade away when no clues were ever found. People would chalk it up to a hike gone wrong or a cougar coming down from the mountains and tucking the body away somewhere we would never find. Our small town sat in the center of the woods. “Lots of places to get lost,” the sheriff would say. 

I remember the last missing person - Edward Tenney, a man in his 70s and store clerk for the local hardware store. I remember how the rain had poured for so long and so hard that first week, a search party was near impossible. Edward Tenney didn’t have any relatives left in town so when the fire fueling the search died out, no one bothered to light it again. After that, everyone forgot all about Edward.

But if you’ve read this far, you don’t care about the strangeness of this town or the previous people who disappeared. You care about what I know. I know what happened to Rita Helen because I saw it happen. 

 I didn’t know Rita. Even still, something about her face on the news compelled me to find her. 2 days ago I headed out to search. I couldn’t take the guilt of waiting at home, knowing she was out there. I headed for the edge of town, where I found the surrounding forest wrapped with yellow police tape and lit with red and blue lights from the row of police cars parked at the edge of the woods.

I knocked on the window of the first car I reached. A young man lifted his attention from the clipboard in his hands and looked at me, confused. He rolled down his window, and without the collection of raindrops streaking the glass, turning his face to pointillism, I recognized him from TV. “Is this the search party?” I asked.

“Afraid we’re stopping for the night. Rain’s getting too hard - people started complaining,” he answered, as though I would be as understanding as he was. But you can’t just stop in the middle of a search.

“So you’ve just stopped looking for her?” 

“Only for the night-” I cut him off.

“The night could be what kills her.”

“The night could be what kills you,” he snapped back. “Go home now. You can join the search tomorrow.”

“Fine. But it’s a long walk home and it's getting real dark. Got a light in there?” I asked, shifting nervously in the mud. I was about to do something stupid and I knew it. The officer picked up a flashlight from the seat and handed it to me. I flick it on. Light spilled out and I turned the cone to the woods.

“Like I said, we’re done for the night.” The officer said, and I’m sure he had caught on to what I was about to do.

“You’re done for the night. I’m not.” That was probably the most courageous I felt all night. Before the officer could open his door and stop me, I slipped under the yellow tape and dashed into the woods. I didn’t know what I was doing or thinking. I just wanted to find Rita. I didn’t care if I risked my life as well.

But the officer…he followed after me. Chased me down another mile or two until the lights of the police cars had faded and the muddy ground had no trace of the search party who had trampled the woods. Tired and out of breath, I finally slowed and the officer caught up with me. 

“Sir! It’s too dangerous to be out here alone!” He said only a few feet behind me.

“Someone’s gotta find her.” I answered, not turning around. 

“No point in losing yourself looking for her.” I scanned the woods with my light, not listening to the officer. I called out her name a few times before the officer grabbed me by the wrist and spun me around. “As an officer of the law, I am ordering you to return to your home.” I still wasn’t listening. A flash of lightning illuminated the forest. The temporary brightness faded fast, but I am sure I saw figures in the distance. “There! Do you see that?” I break away from the officer, sweeping my flashlight over tree after tree. But I didn’t see them. I couldn’t see them anywhere. Thunder rumbled, as if laughing, as if taunting me for not understanding.

“Sir!” Another flash of lightning cleared the dark away. There was definitely someone there. I spun back to the officer. He had to have seen it. 

But he was gone too. He hasn’t shown up since. I didn’t know his name, not until it showed up on the news a few hours ago. Louis Scott. I haven’t told anyone that I was the one who led him out there last night. I’m going now, to try and find him too. But I understand now. I think they disappear when it rains.

No further entries have been made.