It's easy to judge when you believe the same thing couldn't happen to you, that you couldn't be in the wrong place at the wrong time or make a mistake. You don't know why people find it so satisfying to place blame during a crisis, but they do. People love to strike out when they think it might make them feel better.
"Your responsibilities are few, Tabitha," the woman says. "Where is your sister?"
"I do not know," Tabitha admits.
"Because you were not watching her as I told you to," her father says.
"No, I was watching, she ran off and I couldn't—"
"Do not lie to your parents, you deceitful child," her mother says as she grabs hold of her arm and drags her back to the shore. "Judith never runs off. She is a sweet girl, an obedient girl, unlike you. Admit that your negligence is to blame for this."
"I was watching," Tabitha insists.
"I will not tolerate lies in my house," her mother replies. "Lies are the greatest sin, and I will not have them. The sun sets soon. You will search for your sister, and if you do not find her, you will remain outside for the fog to judge you."
"No, Mother, please!"
"Search the water and pray that your sister's body is not there," her mother says as she pushes her into the sand. "I am ashamed to have a child as sinful as you."
The three of them leave Tabitha sobbing in the sand and fog. The sun is low on the horizon. You silently shadow Tabitha in her fruitless search until it dips below the horizon and she sinks outside the front door of her house.
"Please let me in," she sobs. "Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"Mother and Father are not here," Abel says from behind the door. "They told me not to let you in. They said the Devil is going to claim you for what you did. They said the fog takes liars to their grave and keeps their souls for eternity."
"Do you want me to die?" she yells at him.
"I have to do as they told me or they'll throw me to the fog along with you when they return."
"Abel, open the door!" Tabitha demands, but Abel does not respond.
Leaves rustle and crunch somewhere behind you. With only the light of the moon, there is no way to tell what it is.
"Something is out here with me, Abel."
"It's the fog come to take you," he whispers through the crack in the door. "You had better run and hide."
She stands, her eyes trying to focus on what she can't see.
Then She Runs