special thanks to Teacher veronica Árciniegas for encouraging us to create this story.

“Sometimes you think you already know everything, but then something unexpected happens that makes you question everything… Isn’t that crazy?”, I asked myself quietly while sitting in the city’s central park.

“Seriously?”, but it seemed it was loud enough for Michael to hear. “Is that what you were thinking about while you ignored your only and best friend? ” he glared at me, fakely feeling insulted.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re so boring despite being so stupid”, I shrugged my shoulders after responding, and I jokingly added, “my grandpa's stories are more interesting, you know”.

“Well, miss smarty-pants, that’s why I was telling you to come clubbing with me”, he scoffed.

“I already told you…”, I began to speak before being rudely interrupted by that annoying creature.

“Stop, don’t repeat it, it hurts to hear you don’t love me anymore!”, he said while dramatically holding his chest.

“Ha! As if, you don’t even have feelings”, I replied after shoving him lightly. “I only said I don’t feel like going out.”

“Come oooon, pleeeeeaaaase!”, he shook me by the shoulders. “It’s a Friday night, it will be fun!”

“Okay, I get it, let go already!,” I yelled at him, he was almost throwing a temper, just like a kid would.

“Wohoo!” he exclaimed excitedly as he grabbed my arm. “No take backs, okay? Let's go”.

As I was getting ready, I tried to get rid of the bad feeling I had been having since that morning. I was never the type to stay out late because it could be dangerous, better safe than sorry as they say and, call it intuition or whatever you want but, something was telling me not to go. Though, that day I thought it would be fine to just have fun, I knew my way around the area and I also knew the place we were going to pretty well. 

So we arrived and I did have fun, but a dream is only sweet while you're still in it. I came back to reality a couple of drinks, dance rounds and hours later when I noticed the time, it was already past midnight. I was tired and wanted to go home, but I was alone. I was tipsy and getting impatient, but I was alone. That wasn't good, at all.

“Did he seriously leave me all alone here? Where is he?!” I was sitting down after paying and anxiously waiting for Michael, “Ha! ‘be right back’ he said, ‘just going to the bathroom real quick’ he said… the idiot must have lost his phone”. 

I had the bad habit of biting my nails out of anxiety, sometimes until they cracked and bled; I hated it, but I couldn't help it, it was as if the pain helped me concentrate. At that moment I really needed to be aware of my surroundings. As I was calling him again and getting more frustrated when he wouldn’t pick up, a drink appeared in front of me.

“Here you go, miss”, said the waiter when I looked up at him.

“What is this? I didn’t order it” I frowned at the glass of rum on the table, but honestly the loud music and heat of the place were starting to get to me too.

“It’s a courtesy of the gentlemen over there”, he pointed at a group of guys sitting in a corner, eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat and making me want to throw up all the alcohol I had drunk.

“Please take it back, I’m already heading back home anyway”, I told him as I stood up.

“By yourself?” he asked with a genuine worried expression. “Where do you live, miss?”

“I live far away from here, near the central park, but it will be fine”, at least that's what I wanted to believe.

“Maybe… you don't know the legend, miss?”

“Legend? What do you mean?”

“You’re not from around here, are you?” He was visibly shocked, and it annoyed me for some reason.

“Well, no… I moved here like, a year or so ago to study at the University of Pamplona”, I defended myself quickly.

“Did no one tell you that you must never walk through 7th avenue around this time? It's really close to the park.”

“I, no, never heard anything like that”, I could barely answer, I started feeling sick then, and the bad feeling I couldn't shake completely came back. “Why? What about it?”

“You better go home quickly and avoid it, there's a-”

He was interrupted by one of the ‘gentlemen’ from the corner table, who insisted I drink the rum. I was already mad at and worried about Michael, I wanted to get home as soon as possible, and here there were people telling me this and that and only scaring me, and I had had enough of that. I gulped the glass quickly followed by a ‘happy now? Then leave me alone!’ and pushed through the crowd towards the exit.

After I left the nightclub, I began to feel nauseous, and figured it was because I was drunker than I thought. I wanted to believe that I was trembling from the cold and not fear. ‘Just keep walking’, I repeated over and over, until I arrived at the 7th avenue and started guessing what that legend was about.

“I'm sure that was just a stupid story locals made up to scare outsiders, I didn't even get to hear it”. 

It was pointless to think so hard about it.

As I kept going, I heard steps behind me. My heart skipped a beat, but when I turned around there was no one nearby.

“Stop being so paranoid” I reassured myself, “it's just your imagination”.

I told myself, but what was really going on? I had goosebumps all over and I could even feel every sweat drop on my skin. The idea of being followed was prickling me like a thousand needles, maybe one of those creeps back at the bar was after me, and it just got worse.

I never stopped walking and as I was looking everywhere in a panic, I became dizzy. Everything began to look blurry, strange shapes flashed before me as I was feeling out of breath. I bit my thumb nail when I felt my anxiety creep up around me; it was so deafening and overwhelming, almost as loud as the steps I could hear… Steps indicating that someone was running at full speed towards me.

Then, I turned around gasping for air, every inch of my body trembling in fear, expecting to see a man ready to attack me. I was half right, there was a man but he was lying near the sidewalk; I was going to walk past him until I saw his face.

“Oh my god, Michael!”, I was both relieved to finally find him and terrified seeing him passed out on the street. I screamed for help but it was no use. Grandpa's house, where I was living, was nearby so I thought of going there but his body was too heavy for me to lift by myself. 

Trying to come up with a solution I remembered I still had my phone and quickly took it out… only to find out it was out of battery. It had to be a sick joke; my friend was unconscious, I was by myself and couldn't get help. I began to feel helpless and pathetic, even more when I started to cry.

“This is the worst”, my voice hoarse after screaming again, “please, help me!”. I choked on my words and started to cough violently. When I finally calmed down, I looked around again.

And then, not too far away, I saw a figure by the nearby church. An elegant, long-haired woman dressed in a beautiful vintage dress adorned with some frills, and a wool shawl over her slender shoulders. She was incredibly pale, and under the moonlight, she almost seemed to glow. She was walking so carelessly and slowly that I wondered if she was drunk too.

“Excuse me!”, I said as loud as I could while walking towards her, almost tripping on my way. “Ma'am, I need help please!, I said as soon as she stopped and I got closer. “Thank goodness, you see, my friend passed out, I need help to move him”.