By Audrey Tsai, TIWP Student
My heart stopped. I see my friend, on the other side of an old looking bridge. She got lost on a hike four days ago and just recently got found in the woods. My friend looks so small, as if she was an ant. Even though so far away, I know it is her. The bridge is creaking even before I touch it. There are pieces of wood that have broken and fallen off. Looking like it is over a century old, I want to leave but I know my friend is on the other side. I still wonder why they could not have done something else to save her. Fog is creeping in as if I wasn’t meant to cross the bridge. As if she is supposed to disappear.
