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It all started on that lovely fall day, the trees were multiple colors of red and orange, the air chilly and the sky clear.
I had decided to go bird watching with my friend a couple days ago and we had decided to meet up at the bridge that was near Yarrow park. It was still early in the morning and we were supposed to meet up at around nine.
The bridge was only around thirty minutes away from where I lived so I decided to go by bike. After packing my book on birds and binoculars I put on my helmet, went to the shed, got my bike and left for the bridge.
I arrived at the bridge around eight fifty and started waiting for my friend, at nine twenty i started getting worried. My friend had yet to show up and they weren’t usually this late, not only that but they hadn't answered any of my texts, so I decided to call.
I could hear the ringtone of my friend’s phone on the other side of the bridge.
Walking over to the noise I saw my friends bike and their bag, I started getting worried and looked around but couldn’t see them anywhere.
Then I saw my friend's hat on the old trail leading under the bridge.
At this point I was slightly scared that something had happened to my friend but at the same time thought that they were playing a joke on me like they always do. So I decided to follow the footsteps that led under the bridge.
When I got to the bottom where the bridge pier was I screamed.
Two days later it was all over the news. My friend had been an unfortunate victim of a murder, the only clue was the bloody footsteps that went down to the riverbank and disappeared.
I never went near that bridge again.