The Bridge of Darkness A novel

Markham Bridge in rural Montana, is haunted. As Fran James and her friends spend their Saturday night there having a party, they come face to face with the ghosts who have died there over the past century.


1. Markham Bridge


The beginning of terror started when Anne Baxter died on the Markham Bridge in the hot, June, night of 1908. She wore a blue dress, and new black shoes on her small feet. Her long, black hair glistened in the burning sun; her bright, brown eyes focused on the darkness of the Montana mountains; her black shoes were polished. 
"You can see the stars, Anne", Margaret Baxter said. She was thinking about her father, Arthur Baxter. He was a local lawyer in town. Anne, who was twelve, was an only child. She didn't have a brother, nor sister. They ignored her all of the time; they ignored her friendliness towards others who laughed at her jokes. Suddenly one of the girls pushed herself off the bridge to her death. And, seconds later, the nightmare ended in immense grief over her death.


By June 5, 1909, (a year later), Tim Scarf, a ten year old boy, died when he leaned over the bridge. After his deadly fall onto the hard, grassy, ground, his death brought a lot of grief on the town's populace. His death was the beginning of the tragedy. Afterwards John Edward Harris, reporter for ​The Montana Times​, wrote about the tragedies. He was allegedly said to say: "​Markham Bridge is the place where death...and tragedy...shall continue to wreak havoc on everyone who goes there...". 


By June of 1910, Robert Westwood, the Montana Mayor, walked along the bridge to prove that it wasn't haunted. He was shivering. Then he saw a ghostly figure point to the grass with its right finger. He screamed. As someone  pushed him off with strong hands, his death cast a dangerous shadow over Montana.


Elizabeth Curran, a sixteen year old girl, walked along Markham Bridge. She gazed at the southerly wind that blew across her face. Her short, brown hair was cut. Her hazel eyes focused on the eerie atmosphere that surrounded the place. She wore a white dress, and black shoes. She had a look on her face that meant she was alarmed by the ghost stories her friend Amy Price told her last year about Markham Bridge. "The ghosts will get you​", she said. She had smiled at her. Then, as Elizabeth pondered on what her friend told her, she saw a shadowy figure smirking at her. "​Time to die; time to die; time to die​", he said. And she looked at the ghost, and screamed.


J. M. Whorl, a psychic, stared at Markham Bridge. He had, over the last two decades, knew what it meant to use séances around the huge black table with fellow members of the Montana Psychics' Association; he was looking at the green and brown grass that covered the mountains. He was forty-nine, and married to Selene Whorl, a thirty-three year old clairvoyant. They were married for a decade. J. M. Whorl closed his blue eyes. Then, as he immersed himself in the environment, he saw the ghosts of other children who had passed away early in their short lives. J. M. (as he was called), noticed the ghost of Anne Baxter. "​There is a girl here. She's twelve. Her name's Anne. She was picked on by other local girls...and boys. She was pushed off the bridge when she died; she lives through her spirit that haunts Montana".  

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