[ WP ] A young child stumbles upon a serial killer dumping a body in the woods .

It was in the springtime when the last bit of real chill was gone from the air that Jenna really loved being outside. Only 7 she had the good sense to stay away from the busy road in front of her house. It was what was behind the house that she longed to play in - a magnificent, seemingly never ending wood. There was a tiny stream between the house and the woods that began to babble when the time was just right, and it seemed to Jenna that the woods were always a little wet in a way that she only had fleeting thoughts about. What Jenna did know was that she never really felt afraid when she was in the woods. Even when her mother got upset and grounded her, she would reply to her mother that she just did n't understand why she was so angry. She just knew, she said, that nothing would ever harm her in the woods. She had seen a mountain lion once. When the mountain lion saw her, when it really finally focused attention on her, it flattened its ears against its head, growled softly and ran away at a quick clip. Jenna felt safe. 
 
 And so, on that Saturday morning when she had poked her mother while she lay sleeping and whined about going outside - after all, she said, it is already daylight, Mom! - her mother sleepily said for her to stay behind the house away from the road. Jenna was thrilled. She knew just where she was going. About a hundred yards back from the house was a tightly packed circular grove of trees. The circle they formed was really only about thirty feet across, and it seemed to Jenna that inside the circle there were no trees. To the seven year old mind, this was a perfect hideaway. A fort. A house. Dozens of structures only the imagination bounded. She grabbed her walking stick she always carried because she wanted to be just like her Daddy and he ALWAYS carried a stick with him in the woods when they walked together. The stick she carried was just like his - gnarled but polished, not too big and bulky but sturdy. She asked him why he carried one and he said, `` Well, you never know what you'll find when you're walking, sweetheart, but a stout walking stick will ward off most anything!'' From that day forward, she insisted on carrying a stick even when she played in the woods. 
 
 Jenna set out across the tiny brook with her stick. She hurried along, anxious to see the stand of trees and barely noticing the unusual sounds that were in the air all around her. The grunt of something not quite human but passing as such. Someone who was exerting great effort and clearly not being smart about how they were doing it. Jenna had been watching her feet as she scurried along through the woods and had not been looking ahead when she stopped just a few feet from the circular stand of trees she sought. When she looked up, two eyes, part of the personification of grunge, looked back at her. It was an older, white haired man who was out of breath. She was shocked for just a moment, but then the calm of the woods came over her: the knowledge that nothing could hurt her. She focused on the man for a few seconds more but did n't recognize him. As she expanded her gaze it became clear what the man was doing that took his breath - what he had been laboring to accomplish. There was a dead person over his shoulder. 
 
 Jenna's brow furrowed. She had only seen a dead person once before. There had been a terrible accident only the month before in the busy road in front of her house. She had heard the loudest sound she had ever heard. Although it was screeching, crushing, shattering, a human scream, all in the same instant, it registered as a catastrophic earthquake's first jolt might in her young mind. She was in shock at first but then rushed to the front windows and reached them about ten seconds ahead of her mother. She saw then what she knew was a dead man in the road - thrown from his car and crushed by it. Her mother would never tell her whether the man was dead even though she asked continuously at first. Gradually, she asked less often with the same result. She was sure of what she had seen. 
 
 This dead person looked different to Jenna. The person was actually a girl, a teenaged girl. Jenna knew she was n't a grown up but she knew the dead girl was older than her. What was confusing to Jenna was the girls head. The face was perfectly recognizable and it appeared the dead girl was at peace, asleep. But the rest of the girl's head was unrecognizable. Jenna had never seen anything like it. Her reaction though was not paralyzing fear or shock. She was curious. 
 
 `` Mister, what are you doing with that dead girl?'' she ventured. She was n't even sure that the man would talk to her, but she attempted it anyhow. The man just grunted in response while he threw the dead girl from over his shoulder to the ground. It was unceremonious and damaged the girl's body and what was left of her clothes. Jenna's calm and certainty took on a new form as she became angry at this action by the man. Then she focused further and noticed what made her truly upset, not in fear, but in a maelstrom of anger. The man's hands and the front of his dirty overalls had blood all over them, the same as the back of the girl's head. There was something pink and some grey material Jenna did n't recognize. She stopped thinking about what specifically she had seen and focused on the realization that THIS MAN had killed the girl. And that he could do the same to her. She drew herself up straighter and her voice became more defined and loud. 
 
 `` Stop where you are!'' Jenna screamed. `` I know exactly what you did, and you're not getting away with it!'' 
 
 The dirty man in the overalls grunted, this time with words that Jenna understood. 
 
 `` You're next.'' 
 
 With that Jenna raised her walking stick and pointed it at the man along with her other hand. Jenna focused mentally - her anger and sadness all together in one swift motion mentally in unison with her physical motion. 
 
 `` I SAID STOP WHERE YOU ARE!'' 
 
 And with that, the man's expression, while at first amused and irritated at the same time, morphed to sheer terror and shock as he was lifted bodily without any visible touch and slammed into the tree with his feet lifted from the ground. The man was pinned there, unhurt but completely frozen in shock. Whether the reason he could n't move was Jenna or his own inability to move was never clear. 
 
 -- - 
 
 Jenna watched TV in the living room as a state trooper spoke in hushed tones to Jenna's mother. 
 
 `` The suspect says that Jenna moved her hand and walking stick to pin him against the tree where we found him. We're not even sure what to make of that. Do you have any ideas, ma'am?'' asked the trooper. 
 
 `` I have no idea, but that killer is in custody now, is n't he? That was what Jenna said happened too when I talked with her. I guess when she says she'll be safe in the woods from now on, I'll believe her. 
 
 Jenna's mother and the trooper just stood staring at Jenna, not knowing exactly to believe.
