It wasn’t Blake’s lucky night; He had been mugged and badly beaten up, but somehow managed to get away by some miracle.
Blake walked on; The night was as black as pitch.
There was a glimmering light up ahead; Blake squinted through the night. It was a young lady in a white nightgown and black hair. She smiled sweetly; The scent of jasmine and roses surrounded her.
Whatever she was, she wasn’t malevolent.
She put her hand on his shoulder and lay him to rest on a soft spot of moss.
Worn out and dazed by the pain, Blake fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, he awoke; Finding himself one step before the edge of a yawning crevasse. His eyes widened as he realized his danger the night before.

The girl appeared and smiled, disintegrating into petals.
They wafted down into the crevasse, disappearing into the dimness. Naturally, everyone thought he was a madman.

Determined, Blake looked through the newspaper archives at the library;

He found a clipping.

“Girl, Age 13, Falls into Pit. Funeral on Saturday.”