Yesterday I broke up with my girlfriend. Today her parents found her drowned in her bathtub. Everyone says that it’s my fault. If she saw me crying now maybe she wouldn’t have done it… I never had to worry about her when it came to suicide. Which is why this is such a big shock. If it was the other way around, the whole town would be buzzing about how they “always knew that that Hank kid was a cutter.” The only person that ever thought that I could be anything different is dead now. It was really awful to hear my mom call me down on a Sunday morning and show me the paper. At least Callie made the front page. God, that sounds so morbid. I guess that’s my strong suit, though. I’ve been going to a therapist for eight years now about suicidal thoughts and she told me to write them down in a Thought Journal (a.k.a this.)
But she always told me to make it more like reports, while I’m more of a biography letter kind of guy. I don’t even know if that’s possible. I really miss Callie. I still love her, I loved her for eight months, and you can’t just quit. It’s just that I got so stressed and couldn’t take everything. Seeing her face crumble like that… I’m a horrible person… It’s all my fault that she’s dead now. This might be my last entry, and if so, to anyone who’s reading this; I’m sorry.
- Kyle Hank
Holy shi-… probably shouldn’t finish that word. Okay GHOSTS ARE FREAKING REAL! I was sitting in my room on my bed looking at the pictures of us (I know that it’s girly but it helps) and THE LAST PICTURE OF US FLOATED OFF THE BED AND UP TO MY FACE. I freaked out a little, but that one picture has been showing up everywhere. I’m too scared to touch it, though. I mean, what if it’s a ghost from Insidious that booby-trapped it and will come rip my face off and eat it if I touch it… Okay, I just heard laughing. This is really freaking creepy. I think I should go talk to my parents. But what if they think I’m crazy?
I told my mom first because I really don’t like my stepdad. She looked at me funny… until she opened a drawer in the kitchen (THE KITCHEN) to find the same flipping picture! I told her in a lot of detail about everything that happened and she brought the picture to dining table. “Kyle, what are you thinking about this whole ghost situation right now?” I told her that I felt like something was going to kill me… she laughed, along with someone- something- else. “Don’t tell Dean but I used to be into all of this paranormal stuff when I was a teenager. Maybe someone is trying to give you a sign. But I don’t know what, or who.” After she said that she went to do the dishes. I looked hard down at the picture, smiling a little when I saw Callie’s beaming face staring back at me. Then I looked at me, gazing lovingly at her. Like all of our other pictures…
I let that last line out in a thoughtful whisper and the lights in the room went out for three seconds. My mom came back in, “Kyle sweetie, are you okay?” I told her yeah. It seems like whoever was here was trying to give me a sign. She nodded, “We would seem absolutely crazy if anyone else was here.” Instead of going back to the dishes, she came and sat beside me. “So, what did you say to trigger the light spasm? You know too much of that can hurt my light bulbs.” I told her about the question I asked and how it seemed that I just got told “no”. We went through another series of questions that went like this:
Are you trying to tell me something? (Yes)
Is it important? (Yes)
Am I crazy? (No)
Well what are you trying to tell me? (The picture floated up and hit my face.)
It’s in the picture? (Yes)
Are YOU in the picture? (Yes)
You’re not me, right? (Confused light spasm)
Are you me? (No)
So you’re Callie? (Yes)
Then we looked back at the picture and studied it hard, looking for any abnormalities. My mom pointed out a man in the background, almost hiding in the bushes with a hat and glasses. “Honey, who is this?” I told her that I didn’t know and the lights flashed with a big old “NO”. I thought hard back to that day and remembered my friend Trevor had a hat. I told my mom that he was only with us for a few minutes; it must just be a coincidence. Again, the lights flashed “NO.” And then it clicked.
Callie, you didn’t do it, did you?
The next day we went to the police and told them about what had happened. They thought we were crazy and the autopsy had shown no signs of struggle at all. My mom asked them who had done it. They replied, “Paul Flynn.” My mom chuckled, “That’s Trevor’s father, of course there would be no signs of struggle.” So they got a new autopsy done, and luckily it showed signs of rape, and soap scum under her nails. The headlines the next day read, “The Flynn responsible for Callie Glenn’s Rape and Murder.”
Looking back… that was so many years ago. I never did see or hear from Callie again. Nor did I ever get over her. But I did marry. And become a doctor so that I could help solve cases, not unlike Callie Glenn’s. Now, sixty years later, I hope that finally get to see her again.