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She heard her mother scream the next morning and wake her father. She had gone to wake up Chris and found only an empty bed. Misty, sat down in front of her parents, she wanted more than anything to tell them everything. But, she couldn’t. Instead, she told them what she had planned the night before that Chris and Mike had gone out to the swamp for a remembrance of Travis. A boys only thing. Her dad had muttered something along the lines of “boys will be boys” and told her mother to calm down, that they had probably just smuggled a couple beers or a bottle of something good down there and had fallen asleep. And that in no time Chris would be back here hung over and in the perfect state to get a good tongue lashing.
Misty almost lost her composure than. She would have given anything for that to be true. For a moment she hoped it was. That any minute her brother would walk through the front door hung over and in trouble. She knew she the only person she was fooling was herself. Fighting back the tears she asked to be excused and go back to her room. Saying she wasn’t feeling well. It wasn't really a lie, she did feel terrible. Just not for the reasons her parents thought. She was almost halfway there when the police knocked on the door. Her mother fell to her knees in tears when they told her they found poor Mike face down in Mr. Geralds backyard. Drowned in a dog bucket. Misty sat on the stairs and bawled out loud. Glad that now she didn’t have to hide her grief. By the afternoon the police had still found nothing, but swore that the next day they would send divers into Hernshaws pound and dredge the swamp.
They ate dinner in silence. A quiet solemn meal after which her father reached down under the sink and pulled out his bottle of whiskey. He didn’t even grab a glass, instead just slugged it from the bottle. Misty, thought that in some way her parents already knew that their son was never coming back. Her brother was gone.
But, she still had one question.
“Dad, can you tell me about Mrs. Hernshaws children?” She asked.
“Misty!” Her mother started. “How can you as-”
“Its okay.” Her fathers said, calming her mother. “Nothing like a ghost story to take your mind off something."
“Well, ya’ll can have them for yourselves then.” Her mother fumed and stomped off.
Her father watched her walk off with a shake of his head. “Everyone grieves in their own way.” He said sagely, doing his best to stay strong for his daughter.He took another gulp from the bottle. “And as for Mrs. Hernshaws kids, well, I don’t know anything about them other than that she had three boys.” He told her.
That revelation chilled her to her core. No wonder she had showed up for them. Mike, Travis, and Chris. Three sons. “Thanks.” She managed and gave her father a quick hug before leaving him to his drinking. Upstairs, she couldn’t sleep. The summer heat had returned with a passion. Misty thought it would be better to try to clear her mind in a nice soothing bath. Once her tub was filled she sprinkled in the necessary salts and mixtures. Sighing in relief as she crawled into the luke warm water. She had just closed her eyes when she felt that for sure she was not alone.
She opened her eyes and tried to scream. There on the other side of the tub was the grinning skeletal face of Mrs. Hernshaw. But, before she could, the evil spirit sprang forward and pushed her head under water. Misty fought as the water pushed the air out of her lungs and she struggled to breathe. Her head was never able to break the surface long enough to get air and instead she ended up drawing more water in than air. Her lungs were screaming from lack of air.
Soon, she wasn’t able to fight at all as she was forced to the bottom of the tub. The specter leering down at her through the sudsy water and then Misty knew no more. Because what Misty hadn’t known and what no one had known. Was that while Mrs. Hernshaw had, had three sons, what she had always truly wanted was a daughter.