The Living Legend

The town I grew up in had always been a mining town, with mines scattered everywhere—practically every street had a pit or shaft nearby. But most of them are empty now, abandoned relics of a bygone era. The only thing still running in the area is the railroad, though even that’s on its way out. They’re about to tear it down to build a massive bridge. Every town, no matter how small or strange, has its urban legend. It doesn’t matter how ridiculous or illogical the story is; there’s always one. The kids and the young folks always have something to talk about, something to share, a story that gets passed from mouth to mouth. And here, we’ve got our own. Our own legend that we talk about, that we whisper in the dark. We’ve got the tale of the Pale Lady. It’s not just a story, though. It’s a warning. A haunting image that sticks with you long after you’ve heard it. A specter that digs itself deep into your mind, and you can’t forget it, no matter how old you get. In the last week of our second year of high school, about 15 of us decided to go see if the legend of the Pale Lady was true or not. We figured we'd dig into it ourselves. The story goes that she shows up by the railroad tracks because she’s buried in the nearby public cemetery. Personally, I always thought it was just a story—nothing more. Just something the adults used to scare little kids, you know? But, as we’ve all learned, not every opinion we have is right. Anyway... this area is right next to the old town, almost at the heart of the city where we lived. The railroad line is on the outskirts of the old town, and it’s easy to get there from here. There’s also a big road that connects it to the old cemetery. So, we gathered a group and set off. Our first stop was the railroad tracks. We weren’t too keen on heading straight to the cemetery at night, even with the number of us there. It was about 2:30 in the morning, and it was a Saturday. Kyle, one of our friends, had snuck a few beers from his dad’s stash, and we all felt like we were on some kind of adventure. Each of us took a swig as we walked down the road. We were close now, almost there. The air was so still, only the sound of field crickets and our quiet laughs breaking the silence.