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The Ghost Bride of Idaho / Chapter 1: The Angel of Fire
The Ghost Bride of Idaho

The Ghost Bride of Idaho

Author: Thomas Marquez


Chapter 1: The Angel of Fire

More than twenty years ago, a horrifying case shook our town.

Back then, our little corner of Idaho wasn’t used to tragedy, not like this. Folks still talk about the day the circus came—how Main Street felt electric, how everyone lined up for popcorn and hot dogs under the striped tents, never imagining what was coming. You could smell the cotton candy and sawdust, hear the laughter echoing off the tents, never guessing what was coming.

A girl from the circus—just seventeen, they said—lit herself up like a torch in the middle of her act, and fell, burning, right in front of us all.

The memory’s still vivid for some of us: her white dress flaring, the gas-soaked ribbons catching like torches in the night air. The local paper called her the “Angel of Fire.”

Very soon after, we learned that the girl had been assaulted by a young man from town earlier that day, and so she died in shame and anger.

Word spread like wildfire, rumors and outrage mixing until it seemed the whole town was lit up with grief and indignation. Folks gathered in the diner and at church, whispering about what had been done to that poor girl.

The young man was sentenced to death, but the terror of that night still lingers to this day.

Even after the trial, nobody really felt safe. You could feel it in the way people double-checked their locks at night, or the way kids would cross the street rather than walk by the old circus lot. Hardware stores started running out of deadbolts, and folks swapped ghost stories over pie at the diner.

Over the years, many townspeople have reported:

They saw the girl late at night.

Sometimes it was a flash of white down Maple Street, sometimes a pale figure flickering near the abandoned fairgrounds. Local kids dared each other to walk there after dark, but nobody ever lasted long.

Her restless soul refuses to leave—could it be we got the wrong person back then?

Even the most rational among us would admit, over a beer or at a backyard barbecue, that something about the whole story just didn’t add up.

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