Lover's Bridge

In the small town of Matlock in the 1940s, a bridge was constructed to connect the shopping and office buildings to the suburbs. It made travel a lot easier for a lot of people, even a sidewalk for those who do not drive. Not long after the construction of the Locke bridge, it had its first death as well. A bride-to-be named Jo Walker, had been left at the altar. Overcome by sadness she committed suicide by hanging herself over the side of the bridge.

Every year on the anniversary of her death, people have said to have seen her. Walking along Locke bridge and stopping people to ask for the time. Those who answer her are doomed to die at the time they respond. Each death was always random and never the same. With so many deaths and rumors beginning to spread around Matlock, the mayor made the decision to close off the bridge.

Another road was constructed, and everyone avoided the bridge until now…

Clare left work late, walking home from the office to her apartment building in the suburbs. It wasn't too far of a walk, and the cold night air gave her chills. Clare huddled her jacket closer around her body, picking up her pace. All she had to do was cross the small bridge ahead of her, and then she would be home. Stepping onto the bridge's pedestrian walkway, Clare could sense someone behind her.

Whatever or whoever it was, she could feel their breath on the back of her neck. The tiny hairs stood on end, and she covered her nape with a hand. Looking over her shoulder, Clare breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that nothing was there. It was only when she faced forward that she found herself face to face with a woman in a bridal gown. Clare stopped in her tracks, looking at the woman in front of her, thinking how odd it was for her to be out walking this late at night in a wedding dress.

“Do you have the time?” the bride asked, tilting her head to the side, her face hidden by a veil.

“Excuse me?” Clare replied, confused.

“You see…I'm running late, and my groom will be worried if I don't show up.” the bride explained, sensing Clare's confusion. Thinking there was no harm in telling her, she looked down at her watch and read the time aloud. “Thank you.” the bride said, walking past Clare and disappearing out of sight, her elegant dress flowing behind her. If the woman was late for her wedding, then why wasn't she traveling by car instead? Mentally shrugging, Clare continued her walk to her apartment building, yet she couldn't help but question the nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

The following day at work, Clare asked her coworker Drew about the nearby bridge. She knew that there was a story behind it, but she couldn't remember the details. “You mean Lover's Bridge? The one that's blocked off from the public?” he exclaimed in surprise. “Blocked off, but…I walked across it last night and didn't see any barriers.” said Clare, not remembering any signs either. Overhearing their conversation, Flora an office employee interjected, “Years ago, they blocked it off because a bride committed suicide on that bridge. She was running late to her wedding, and her groom left because he thought she had stood him up.”

Could the bride be the same woman she had met last night?

“Did you see a ghost on that bridge last night?” Drew questioned.

Clare swallowed thickly picking at the skin round her nails “Will something bad happen if I did?” she replied.

Flora frowned, sitting upright in her chair. “The urban legend says that if you meet the bride's ghost and she asks you for the time, the reply is your time of death.” she told Clare who paled, looking down at her hands. Were her coworkers joking with her? “Has it happened before?” Clare asked, looking at Drew. “There have been a lot of disappearances near there. Along with a few suicides.” he replied.

“Oh…” Clare mouthed, her smile slowly fading into a frown.

9:00 PM

That was the time she told the bride, and it now marked the end of her life. Clare didn't know when or where she would die, just that it could be any day now. She didn't believe in superstition, but having met a ghost in person, Clare was beginning to rethink this view. Flora and Drew told her not to worry that it was just a coincidence after all. That those disappearances and deaths were just things that happened.

It had been almost two weeks, and Drew and Flora hadn't seen any sign of Clare. It was uncharacteristic for Clare to miss work, especially for longer than a day or two. Even then, she would opt for working from home using her home computer. Both of them agreed that after work, they would go by her apartment to check up on her. Walking up the stairs to the second floor of the apartment, they passed by a woman in white, which made Drew do a double take.

Had the woman who passed them been wearing a wedding dress?

“Everything okay?” Flora asked looking down at him from the landing.

“Y-yeah I just thought that...you know what maybe I'm just tired and seeing things.” Drew replied.

“If you say so.” Flora sighed turning towards the left stopping in front of apartment number 208. She slowly raised her hand and knocked on the door. Both of them stood there waiting for an answer and after a few minutes Flora knocked again this time the door slowly creaked open. “Clare?!” Drew called out as his female companion stepped inside first. Flora tried the light switch but didn't have any luck making her wonder why the lights were out but the air conditioning was on full blast.

Taking out his cellphone, Drew turned on the flashlight and led the way inside, calling out Clare's name again. Walking deeper inside the apartment, they could hear a steady creak from inside one of the rooms. Following the sound, it led them into what was Clare's bedroom. Drew's light flickered, causing him to curse and fidget with the app. Raising it up, he let out a scream, falling back into Flora, who placed a hand over her mouth.

There hanging from her ceiling fan was the decomposing body of Clare. Earlier, the person that Drew had seen while passing them on the stairs must have been Jo Walker. The bride of Lover's Bridge who always makes good on claiming her victims. After all, it must get rather lonely walking the bridge alone every year on the anniversary of her death. Just how many more people will have to suffer before Jo Walker would be satisfied?