Midnight Walk by Ann Christine Tabaka




     It was around midnight, but isn’t that usually 

when darkness plays its evil hand?  I couldn’t sleep so 

I decided to take a walk on the beach down the block 

from where we were renting a cottage for the summer.  It 

was a warm and overcast night with a soft breeze.  I 

was enjoying splashing my bare feet through the waves 

that broke at the edge of the sand.  I was mesmerized 

by the rhythmic sound.  Just then the clouds parted and 

the moon revealed a shocking sight in the sand.  A body 

lay curled up along the shoreline.  There was something 

unnatural about it, so I walked up to it to see if he was 

still breathing.  I saw no signs of life.  I did not bring 

my phone with me, and I knew that it would soon be high tide. 

I ran for home to call the police to report it before he was 

washed out to sea.  I sat at the house, awake for hours 

waiting by the phone, but the police never called back.  

I was never called in for a statement. 

     The next morning there was nothing in the local news 

about a police report, and there were no reports of missing 

persons. It was as if it never happened.  I was left wondering 

if it was just a nightmare, if I had imagined the whole thing. 

I am not sure what took place that night, but I can tell you 

that I never ventured out to walk the beach alone at 

night again.

     The rest of the month passed quietly. My husband and I 

enjoyed the last weeks of our vacation without any other 

incidents.  It was time to pack up and head for home.  I 

still thought back to that night and could not let it go.  

I knew that I did not imagine the body lying near the water’s 

edge.  Who was he?  How did he die?  Had the tide come in 

before the police arrived?  Did they ever arrive?  Why didn’t 

they call back to follow up on the report?  I had given the 

dispatcher all the information in detail.  I needed to let 

it go, but I could not. 

     It was midday so I decided to take one last walk on the 

beach to say goodbye to the ocean before leaving.  There were 

very a few people around since it was October and midweek.  

As I neared the spot where I had seen the body, I got an 

eerie feeling.  Suddenly, he jumped out of nowhere and 

glared at me.  “Do you remember me?” he said in a low voice.  

It was him, the man I saw dead on the beach.  I screamed but 

it was too late.  He grabbed me and placed his hand over my 

mouth as he started to drag me towards the nearby pier.  I 

caught my wits, and gathered all my strength.  I pushed my 

entire body weight back into him and kicked him as hard as I 

could in the kneecap.  He released his grip to catch himself 

from falling, and I took the opportunity to run as fast as I 

could screaming loudly for help as I did.

     Just then, two young men who were surf-fishing heard me 

and came running.  They noticed the man chasing me and tackled 

him before he could turn around to escape.  While one young 

fisherman held him down, the other pulled out his cellphone to 

call the police.  This time the police arrived within ten 

minutes.  They hand-cuffed my attacker and proceeded to ask 

questions.   They asked me to go to the police station for a 

full report.  I did.  I was shaking the entire time until the 

ordeal was over and I was safely back home. 

     Almost a year had passed, and we were preparing for 

vacation once again.  I never forgot the events of last 

year, but now they seemed like some distant bad dream.  

After we unpacked and settled in for our annual autumn 

vacation, I went out to shop for groceries.  I grabbed a 

local newspaper to bring back to the cottage with me.  

There on the front page was the result of the recent trial 

of the man who attacked me.  He confessed everything.  It 

turns out that he was the twin brother of the dead man.  

They were separated at birth.  When the twin who attacked me

found out about his rich brother, he plotted to take over his 

life and live as the rich one.  That is why there was never any 

‘Missing Person” report filed.  It almost worked, but 

unfortunately, I came upon him as he was trying to do away with 

the body.  He ran to hide under the pier, not knowing how much I 

actually saw that night.  He disposed of the body permanently 

after I had left to go call the police.  After that, he planned 

to find me and do away with me, to cover all his tracks.  The 

two young men surf-fishing saved my life.

     Needless to say, I still never walk alone on the beach 

anymore, day or night, butespecially not at midnight!

Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She is the author of 9 poetry books.  She has micro-fiction in several anthologies, and published flash fiction. Christine lives in Delaware, USA.  She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and three cats. Her most recent credits are: CommuterLit; Spillwords; The Black Hair Press (Unravel Anthology, Apocalypse Anthology, Hate Anthology); Fantasia Divinity Publishing (Winds of Despair Anthology, Waters of Destruction Anthology, Earth of Oblivion Anthology); The Siren’s Call (drabbles); Potato Soup Journal: 10-word stories.

Ann Christine Tabaka, Poet & Writer – Pushcart Prize in Poetry Nominee

Website: https://annchristinetabaka.com/