Black White and red all over:

BY SHELBY, CEE, MARIA, AND SALLY

Brand new to the city of love, Sally romanticized her walks home from her stressful fashion job, stopping at all the beautiful sights and hidden gems of this new city she called home. She recently discovered a beautiful garden in the 19th arrondissement that reminded her of home- an escape from her hectic job at the top fashion magazine. A rambunctious bus ride filled with unexpected stops, wrong turns, and ending off with three flat tires led her to the backroads of a path never seen before. Never considering herself a nature girl, she overcame this feeling and took the greenery-filled path to get home, the landmark of a tall building waving to her. She enjoyed the golden hour and first glimpses of sunlight all day now that she was out of her cubicle. Beauty queen Sally whipped out her red lipstick- her favorite color because it was alluring- and retouched her makeup for the first time in hours. In disbelief that she couldn't fix her makeup or even look at herself, she decided to unwind and take this picture-perfect moment out of a Monet painting all to herself.

Sally continued to walk, navigating herself back to her studio. Despite the sun warming her face, she felt an eerie chill. She was alone on this walk back but felt someone's presence. Shaking it off and trying to talk to herself about her day to remember details- she heard it—faint crying, wails that echoed behind her. The hairs on her neck stood up, and she froze. Looking around the empty trail, she walked, but she did not see anyone. But behind her was a young girl, who couldn't be more than fifteen years old, with her head in her arms.Feeling empathetic towards her- a lost girl working in a big city- she knew she had to stop and help this young girl. Sally briskly walked over to her, sure not to make a sound too jarring, and knelt. "Hi- Bonjour! Um.. Est-ce.. Are you okay? Are you sad? Can I help?". She worriedly asked through word vomit. The young girl was dressed in all white, a long dress that took over her whole body. The young girl also wore a bright red scarf that matched Sally's lipstick- her favorite color. Something about the girl struck a familiar chord with Sally. She knew her, another life? Another face on the street? "My name is Willow," the young girl spoke between sobs. And then she felt it in her stomach.

On Sally's first day of work, her coworkers, senior and more experienced than her- both in the city and in the industry- warned her about an urban legend- the Weeping Willow. The tale has it that a young girl named Willow lurks in the gardens of the 19th, waiting for her next victim. Willow is a ghost, a spirit of the past who takes the form of her next victim. She poses as a young, helpful girl, and you become her next victim when she looks you in the eye. You become the next Weeping Willow until you find a new victim to free you. Shaking the feeling off and returning to the empathetic sense she felt for a young girl, she crouched to get close to her. Sally felt an inclination toward this young girl. She looked so full of life but so terrified; all Sally wanted to do was help her. She held out her hand, and Willow reached for Sally's as soon as Willows's riding hands touched Sally's, the wrenching and deep gut feeling as back. Willow looked up, charming gaze in her eyes, almost sinister, and smirked. Willow won.

Suddenly, the wind got more robust, and a dark and grotesque feeling grew in Sally's stomach as she saw the young girl disappear into thin air, leaving nothing behind but the scarf. Sally screamed and cried bloody murder as tears ran down her face and on her designer clothes. She tried running down the bottom of the hill. Indeed, this was just a tale; indeed, this young girl was any ordinary girl. Right? She threw her bag and shoes away as she ran faster than she ever could, attempting to outrun her fate. Alas, once she reached the top of the hill in the woods where she was deep in now, she felt a tight constraint on her neck—rough but fitting her shoulders and neck perfectly. She looked down to see the red scarf on Willow's neck now on hers, wrapped tightly, almost like a leash. On the other end is Willow, who ensures Sally cannot escape her destiny. When Sally opened her eyes down where the young girl sat and began to weep, hoping someone would help her reverse the fate of this cautionary tale——even if it meant cursing the life of another.