He never saw the car that knocked him down. Never saw the man who killed him. The moon was high in the sky when he stumbled out of the woods onto the road. He was barely upright and seemed as if he would fall with every step. The driver never had a hope of stopping before he hit the man dressed all in black. He never had expected a man out here in the middle of nowhere halfway up a mountain side.
The driver stopped as soon as he realised. Jumping out his car and rushing to help, pulling out his phone as he went. By the time he reached the body though, the man was already dead. He made the phone call anyway and the body was taken away, but they never did get rid of the bloodstain that would forever mark that way.
They say ghosts are echoes of the past. Something left behind, by a tragic event. That man who died on that road was certainly a terrible mistake. His spirit lingers there unable to go away. Forever stuck, forever dying in that same fateful way. Whenever a car goes speeding up that road by night, the driver always sees a figure to his right. The figure’s hit each time but when the driver looks he’s not there because he’s vanished, seemingly, into thin air.
Come morning, when the sun shines bright, the ghost is gone again. Scared away by the break of day never to experience light again. When night rolls around again he’s back and ready to scare, any driver who speeds down there. See the ghost that haunts the road isn’t just some echo. The ghost is a warning to slow down before you are unable to stop and hit a man who happens to wander there.
The ghost isn’t just a memory of an event long ago. He’s not in your imagination he’s really, truly, there. They called the road dead man’s road because it belongs to the ghost. Few dare to drive down it anymore but one does more than most. He’s the driver who killed the man but these days he drives slow and steady like the tortoise in the race. The ghost might not have been a ghost but he warned the driver just the same. To slow down before he took another life on a dark and gloomy day.
I’m not sure if this is a story or a poem. It appears to be a little of both in places. It is written I’m response to Trio no. 4. Trio no. 4 is today’s daily prompt which asks for a response including as speeding car, a phone call and a bright morning. I’m not best pleased with this result, let me know what you think.