I was there in the park, with her. About ten minutes had passed after midnight when she got up from the bench, ready to go back home since she didn’t believe a single word of what I said. The last thing I heard from Laura was “they should lock you up in a psychiatric hospital” and after that, a scream.
The light that absorbed her came from the sky. Maybe it was my words, the way I said it; maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference, even if I had given her the warning in another way, after all, things happen when they have to happen, at the right moment and to the right person. And Laura was the right person that day.
That was the last time I saw her; with the moon shining in the sky, with the dampness still there from the rain the night before and a cold that cut to the bone. That’s the problem with the abducted, you don’t see them again. I mean that, indeed, there are those who have been returned to Earth, but they’re never the same anymore; whoever leaves, never really comes back.
I won’t hear her talk about the events of ’98 anymore or about her favorite horses, nor will I see her black hair again. She was lost in time. No one knew what happened to her except me. I miss her.
“A thousand-year-old girl” – Words the wind didn’t want to carry away. Recording time: 00:01:37
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