I turn around suddenly, looking to see who said that. I see no one. Looking up, I see the illumination of a fading street lamp. In the distance, I hear a faint drip, drip of what I hope are just rain gutters, and no other "gutters," thank you very much.
A shudder runs down my spine. I wonder who originated the voice. Shaken, I continue on my trek homeward.
The next day, I'm walking down the very same street, and I accidentally bump into an attractive woman. We get to talking, and find out that we have a lot in common. We even lived on the same road.
As the days went on, I saw her more and more, until I was sure that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Somehow, she reminded me of someone, but I couldn't quite place my finger on who it was.
We got married soon after that. It was a blowout. Shortly, we went on our honeymoon, which was, need I say(?), fantastic.
Nine to ten months later (give or take), we had our offspring, our child, our daughter.
She grew up like any other child would, nice house, nice school, plenty of friends, loving, caring parents, the usual.
On her twentieth birthday, something great happened to her: she got engaged to the handsome boy who really liked her.
On the day after her twentieth birthday, something terrible happened to her: her fiance ran off to Vegas with a table dancer.
This sent her on a crying spree. She ran into the woods. It was raining.
My wife and I followed her, still hearing the her sobs as she ran deeper and deeper. I feel a cold chill run down my spine.
We couldn't find her, so finally, I shouted, "Where are you!?"