She stood, waiting eerily at the bridge’s handrail. Her soft, melodic voice traversed the air like a fish through water. A car passed by, headlights illuminating her soft, porcelain skin and delicate frame. Her red scarf was the brightest item of clothing on her body, contrasting starkly with her dark hair and the black coat that protected her from the frigid air. It also illuminated another girl heading towards her, a similar black coat although shorter and revealing a pair of worn jeans. She stopped about five feet from the other girl, steamy breath obscuring her face, and waited for her to finish singing. The light faded, and their breath became invisible again. The bridge returned to total darkness, and the girl who was singing stopped, walking towards the other.

“Take my hand,” The one who sang said to the other, and as another car passed, they held each other's hand. Together they walked to the edge of the bridge, waiting patiently. The one who couldn’t sing began to hum, while the one who could sing began to vocalize sadly in sync with the new tune. A few hours passed, and no one had shown up. They had continued to sing the same, simple melody over and over waiting for the third person to show up. They didn’t. Finally, after the fourth hour, they both looked to each other and nodded. She wouldn’t be coming, apparently. One of them checked their watch.

“2:06, we’ve given her enough time.” The hummer managed to cough out, her throat still scratchy from chalk, her wrists still bruised from rough, jealous hands.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” The other stated, on the verge of tears. She gripped the hand of her companion tighter. Together they walked towards the edge of the bridge. They took off their shoes, stepping unsteadily onto the rail. The next passing car illuminated them one last time, and then they were gone.

*****

“Lynn! Maria!” Called the girl frantically, she didn’t want to die, she didn’t want them to die. She had to get there before they jumped. She had been locked in place by the smell of alcohol and the crashing of cutlery and furniture. She checked her watch, 2:00. The bridge was just up ahead, she could make it. She could stop them. She ran forward, brown overcoat covering up her pajamas, she hadn’t had that much time to change. She continued running. She was at the base of the bridge, she could see them in the middle. You’re going to be too late.

“Lynn! Maria! Wait!” She called out to them desperately, but her voice was overridden by the sound of a passing car. She could hear them singing softly. She checked her watch as she ran up the bridge. 2:05. She could make it, she could make it. Her eyes blurred with tears as she ran up the bridge, newly formed snowflakes shattering upon her head. She called out to them again, and another car passed. This time, the light illuminated their forms on the rails of the bridge, ready to fall away from reality. Say goodbye.

“LYNN! DON’T! WAIT!” She screamed with a newfound fear. She ran faster than she ever had before, she had to stop them. Another car came by, she was a mere ten feet away, but the car’s lights told her she’d been too late. “Lynn… Maria…” She sobbed in pain, she’d been too late. The bruises and scrapes on every visible part of her skin ached in the cold and stung with her tears. She stood silently, still sobbing and sniffling. A tide of regret and sorrow overrode every other emotion, logic, and reason. She looked over the railing carefully and undid her shoes as well. She stepped up on the frost covered rails, wobbling for only a second. Looking down, the hole in the ice looked ominous, yet fearfully inviting. The red scarf lay on the edge of it, just barely dipping into the water. She shrugged off her overcoat, letting the wind carry it back to the bridge, and followed them in.

*****

“I swear I saw ‘er jump, she followed ‘er little friends right on in!” The drunk teenager testified, hiccupping. “Scout’s Hon- *hic* or…”

*****

The couple walked along the bridge steadily. It’d been two years since his little sister had jumped. Every day since then he’d walked by this bridge, waiting and hoping he’d get some impossible sign from her. Tonight, as he walked across the bridge, he heard a familiar voice.

“I was too late,” it said eerily, sadly. He looked at his girlfriend. She hadn’t said anything, and she didn’t show any sign of having heard anything. A car pulled up beside them, it was his girlfriend’s brother. She said goodbye and kissed him on the cheek, then stepped into the car. Her brother frowned at him, clear disapproval of his sister’s choice. She waved goodbye as the car pulled away. He halfheartedly waved after her. He continued to walk, ignoring the voice he’d heard earlier. You’re going to be too late.

“Why couldn’t I stop them?” He heard the voice again, this time much clearer, it sounded a lot like his sister, but she was dead. He continued to walk along the bridge. It was getting darker, he was about a third of the way across. Car’s headlights now illuminated his path more than the dying sun could. He stopped, looking out over the section of water this bridge spanned. It echoed with the sorrowful light of the sun, even though it was at its lowest moment before darkness would entirely engulf them and all that was left would be the stars. He pulled out his phone, turning on the flashlight and continued to walk.

“Why couldn’t I save them?” He heard the voice again, and as the last light of the sun gave way into the darkness, it managed to give the silhouette of someone who looked oh so similar to his sister. He froze. She was dead. She was dead. She was dead. This wasn’t real. He was going insane, he wanted his sister back. Mom and dad were gone the day after she died, he had better foster parents than those monsters ever could be. If she hadn’t died, if she’d just held on a little longer, she would’ve been safe, those monsters would’ve been gone! Her life would’ve improved!

“Is… is that you?” He called, desperately debating between hoping it was and hoping it wasn’t. He walked towards her. His phone light died, but another car was coming, he’d be able to see her. The car illuminated her form, standing on the rail. The light faded but her shoes were heard dropping to the concrete with a light tap. He ran towards her, he wouldn’t let her die again!

“Don’t leave me,” She begged desperately, taking his wrist in her hand tightly and falling off the railing. He couldn’t resist the sudden weight, there was no time to grab onto anything. They plummeted towards the water, his sister crying and holding him the entire time. He was happy he got to see her again, even if it was probably just him going insane.

*****

His death ruled a suicide, a few people testified they saw a boy and a girl falling into the water that night, but what kind of detective trusts the testimony of three drunk teenagers hanging out on the supports for the bridge? Ever since that night, anyone who has lost a sibling and walks the bridge alone disappears, corpse never found but always an eyewitness, every time they fall, there’s a girl with them, clutching them tightly as they plummet to their death. At least that’s how I’ve heard it.