Midnight Whispers

Prologue

     

     The crisp autumn leaves drifted gently through the air as the Killgore family made their way out to their Ford. That particular Tuesday evening was Paradise Killgore's birthday- the only child of Allen and Circe Killgore. The F-150 bounced lively as the family loaded themselves into the beat up truck, and the three year old in the back seat was squealing with joy. 

     "You really got her amped up about that new Chinese buffet, Circe... We're never gonna hear the end of it!" Allen said jokingly, revving the engine and putting the truck into gear. Circe gave him a scowl and laughed. The next few miles carried on like that until everyone's bellies became sore. The Killgore residence perched on the top of a steep hill in a small cul-de-sac. The road that led them down the hill often made Circe slightly ill, as the winding nature of it made it difficult to avoid sudden happenings.

     This particular October night, although joyous at a glance, did not sit well with Circe. Something in her gut kept urging her to turn the truck around and feast on frozen chicken nuggets in the freezer for Paradise's birthday- to do anything but go down this road. The grim outcomes raced through Circe's mind as the cab went silent. It took a moment for her to realize the truck had come to a stop when the thoughts finally calmed. 

      "Allen, Honey, why are we stopped?" Circe questioned looking over at her husband. He remained still. Now worried, Circe lurched over her seat to get a better glance at him. Allen's eyes were a glossy grey, and his jaw was slightly agape. Circe's irrational fears now began to sink in as she whipped around. Paradise was no different in appearance and attitude. The frantic mother scrambled to unbuckle herself to get to her daughter in the back seat.

      As Circe shook Paradise, trying to wake her from this trance, an ear-shattering roar broke the silence. Two glaring headlights waged a war of impact with Circe. With little to no time to react, she snatched up her daughter and jumped from the Ford just as the encroaching eighteen-wheeler smashed not only her vehicle, but her husband into oblivion.

----

     Allen's funeral was three weeks and 4 days later. It seemed that once the damage had been done, Paradise stirred, not remembering anything. To the darling child who had no recollection of how her father died, the sight of her mother nearly killed her. The once strong woman looked like nothing more than a thin shell. A perfect image of a dying soul.

     Circe had been in a haze herself, with the flashbacks of Allen's death playing on repeat in her mind. She hadn't slept or eaten in days, and the red, puffy bags beneath her hazel eyes showed it. Allen was truly the light of her life, and now that he was gone, she was left stumbling in the darkness. When it came time for his eulogy, all she could muster was a muttered sob.