The Guilt of the Witness
My name is Alice, and I still live with the memories of what happened in that town. Even after ten years, the events continue to follow me, and the forest near my old home still feels heavy with the past.
About ten years ago, I lived in a small town near a forest with my brother, Petter. Around that time, a woman named Angélica moved into a lonely cabin on the edge of the town with her daughter, Mary. Almost simultaneously, a middle-aged man named Michael also settled in the same town.
Michael was considered a strange man. He often stared at people with a cold and unsettling gaze, as if he were constantly observing them. At first, I did not give much importance to his behavior. Petter and I felt somewhat pleased that the town was slowly growing, and we attempted to welcome the new neighbors. I personally grew closer to Angélica, as Michael’s presence made me deeply uncomfortable.
My house was relatively close to Angélica’s cabin, so I frequently brought food or took care of Mary while Angélica went to work. She worked long shifts at a bar located far from her home, which often required her to leave Mary under my care. Angélica also owned a dog named Coco, who was energetic and playful, and I enjoyed watching him play with Mary.
Petter, however, attempted to befriend Michael. Through these interactions, he discovered that Michael already knew Angélica. Petter later informed me that they had met approximately six years earlier, when Angélica was still a teenager and Michael was a young adult. Michael had confessed his feelings to her, and after being rejected, he had lost control and imprisoned her in his home without food or resources. Angélica had eventually escaped while pregnant with Mary, although Michael had remained unaware of the pregnancy.
According to Petter, Michael had been extremely possessive and had expressed hatred toward the child. Angélica had moved between several locations before arriving in our town, and Michael had eventually found her again. After learning this, Petter stopped visiting Michael, describing him as mentally unstable and dangerously jealous. His explanation deeply unsettled me.
On multiple occasions, while I was caring for Mary, I noticed Michael passing near the cabin and attempting to look through the windows. Angélica appeared unaware of this behavior. Michael rarely left his home, and when he did, it usually occurred while Angélica was at work. The pattern felt disturbing and deliberate. I considered warning Angélica, but fear and uncertainty prevented me from acting.
That night, I was unable to sleep. The following afternoon, I arrived at Angélica’s cabin as usual. She was rushed and left quickly for work, leaving Mary and the dog under my supervision. I planned to speak to her later.
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That evening initially felt normal. Mary played with Coco while I prepared dinner. Suddenly, a loud impact was heard at the door. I assumed Angélica had returned early and approached the entrance. As I reached for the door handle, an intense feeling of dread appeared, but I ignored it. When the door was opened, Michael stood outside. He appeared intoxicated and carried a metal object.
He attacked me before I could react. I was struck and fell to the ground, unable to defend myself. I lost consciousness shortly afterward. The last sensations I remembered were the sound of the dog barking, a door slamming shut, and the distant cries of the child.
When I regained consciousness, Angélica was found collapsed inside the cabin, surrounded by blood. I attempted to move, but my body failed to respond. I dragged myself toward her until my strength faded. Shortly after, my brother arrived and found me injured. He carried me to a healer in the town, where I eventually recovered physically.
Despite my recovery, the events of that night remained vivid in my memory. When I later attempted to visit Angélica, it was discovered that Mary’s body had disappeared. Guilt overwhelmed me for my silence and inaction. I isolated myself, consumed by trauma and fear.
Eventually, Angélica came to my home searching for answers. My inability to speak at that moment caused suspicion to fall upon me. I became the first person blamed for the tragedy. I could see anger and grief reflected in her expression. I knew who was responsible, but terror kept me silent.
With time, I gathered the strength to reveal what I had witnessed. The injuries on my body remained as evidence of that night. I finally explained the events, including the attack, the locked attic, the distressed dog, and Michael’s presence.
That same night, Angélica confronted Michael. Neighbors later reported sounds of violence and movement toward the forest. According to witnesses, both individuals drove toward a cliff, where they fell to their deaths after a struggle.
Soon after, Mary’s body was discovered buried on Michael’s property. Following these events, Petter and I left the town permanently.
Now, ten years later, the trauma still remains. The memories have never faded, and the silence of the forest continues to remind me of everything that was lost.
VV 😮💨✨
