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TheLostGirl

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The Lost Girl
Saturday,04September201021:14

Writtenby:MaddisonCooper

AJMadden

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ThefirstnightIlltryabsorbing
thetruthcompetingwiththe
rainoutside,ignoringtheriver
mappingmyface.Thenext...
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DeathattheDoor

TheLostGirl
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byAJMadden
Theyveneverfoundthebody,buttheyfoundthedoll.
Theysawitsporcelainheadpokingoutfromthedirtinthewoods.Itslefteyewasgoneandawormhad
burrowedintheemptysocket.Theythoughtitmightbethecorpseatfirst,butsoonrealiseditwasonlya
doll.Theypulleditupandsentitawaytobeexamined.

Writtenby:ChristoFrederickCrous

DerickDeaverwasby
definitionanoldman.Thelast
dooronthetopfloorof
CanterburyHeightshadbeen
hishomeforthe...Readmore..
RoadTrip
Writtenby:MatthewSpence

Shewasusedasevidenceintheinquest,Ibelieve.Mymothercouldvividlyrememberalawyerholdingit
inthecourtroom,danglingheraroundforeveryonetosee.Thepoorthinglookedsoconfused,verylost
andfarawayfromhome.IswearoncethatIsawadesperateflickerofemotioninitsremainingrighteye,
butofcoursethatsridiculous.Iwasjustachild,attachingmeaningtothingsthatwerentthere.

Jeffsawthelightsflashingin
hisrearviewmirror.Thisisit,
hethought.Onelastchance.
Heknewitwasrisky.The...
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Idontreallyknowhowthedollcametobewithme.Badluck,Isuppose.Afterthetrial,itwasgivenbackto
thegirlsmother,whoabhorreditandscreamedthatshewanteditoutofhersight.Themotherssistermy
mothersaidnottodothat,andthatshewouldgivethedollahomeuntilthemothersawfittolookatit.

SummerofLove

Fortyyearslaterandalmosteveryoneinvolvedinthatstoryisdead.Thedollstilleyeless,dirtsmudged
intothepetticoatliesdormantonthemantelpiece.Ithasbeenthereeversinceweclearedoutmy
mothershouse.

AsRoscoeMuellersatonthe
bedinhishotelroom,flipping
throughthecablechannelsto
findtheporn,heexperiences...
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Writtenby:FrankieRembly

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Itdoesntnormallyscareme.Duringthedayitissimplyarustyolddollwithaglassyeyeandawaning
face.Whenviewedinthenight,thingschangeconsiderably.Darknesshasawayofwarpingreality,taking
everydaythingsandtwistingthemoutofperspective.Idbecomeachildagain,afeelingofuncertainfear
turningmystomachasIstaredacrossatit.

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Thedollwasnolongerasimpleornamentitbecameahauntingmemory,alostchildcryinginthewoods.
Idthinkofherprettyfaceforevertrappedinyouth,foreverentwinedwiththedoll.Iwouldbegintoquestion
whatcouldpossiblyhavehappenedtoher,andwhyshewouldeverleavethedollbehind.Idsitforhours
andwonder,thedolllookingbackatmewiththesamehopelessstare.
Ididthinkabouttakingittoanantiquedealer,butthesentimentalvalueistoomuch.Idontwhether
anyoneshouldwantit.Theblondcurlsarecolourlessandflaccid,thefaceblotchyandscratched,butitis
stillanantique.Idneverdoitreallyitwoulddishonourhermemory,orwhateversleftofit.
Ihadbeenwatchingitthatmorning,surveyingthedollwithboredandtiredeyes.Sinceleavingwork,I
spendmostofmymorningsinthesameseat,watchingthefourwallsaroundme.Ihadalmostdriftedoff
whenIheardthetelephone.Itsincessantringingquicklydrownedmymacabrethoughts,andIwentoutto
thehallwaytoanswerit.
Hello?
Thevoiceontheotherendwasafamiliarone,whichalwaysunnervesmemorethanhearingastrangers.
Familyalwayswantsomething.Trueenough,mycousinMarciahadafavourtoask.Ourmutualuncle,
Sidneyneededsomewheretostaywhileshewentandpleasuredherselfwithafourweekcruise.
Hesayshesfinetobeleftonhisown,shesaidButweallknowheisnt.Wedbesogratefulifyou
could.
Igrudginglyaccepted.IdneverwarmedtomyUncleSidney,forreasonsIcanneitherrecallnortruly
understand.Hesalonefigurethattraipsesthroughmychildhoodmemories,withnoropesofsentimentor
emotionbindinghimtome.Ihadntseenhimfordecades,astateIremainedentirelyambivalentabout.
MuchasIopposedtheidea,Ididntwanttoseemunwelcoming,soitwasdecidedhewouldcomeand
stay.Pretendingtobehappyaboutthis,Iputthephonedown.
Thedoll,slumpedasusualagainstthewall,staredatme.Dollscantlookatpeople,soIsupposeImean
thatIwasstaringatit.Eitherway,oureyesmet.Iknowasmuchasthenextsanepersonthatshesjustan
inanimateobject,buttheresstillsomethinghumanaboutherthatappealstome.Isupposeshemakesme
feelnostalgic.
MyUnclearrivedafewweekslater,anditwasclearhehadsuccumbedtothepitfallsofageasmuchas
thepoordollonthemantelpiece.Hisfacewasmappedwithcreasesanddips,greyeyessunkbackinto
theirsockets.Hishair,oncethickandauburn,hasbeenreducedtosmokygreytuftsbetweencanyonsof
barescalp.
Dianehisgreetingwascold,distant.Niceofyoutohaveme.
Mypleasure

Hedbroughtastuffygreyarmchairfromhome,andIseatedhiminitcarefully.Dustclungtoitlikecreeping
ivy.WeseatedhimfewfeetawayfromtheTV.Thedollwasalmosthiddenfromview,tuckedawayinthe
cornerofhiseye.Isawhimturn,glanceatit,andimmediatelywithdrawhisgaze.

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Werarelyspoke,quicklyadoptingthetemplateofanembitteredmarriedcouple.Ibroughthimhisfoodand
helpedhimtothetoilet,carryingoutmenialtasksthatrequirednoconversation.SometimesIdclosethe
doorandeatmyfoodinthekitchenjusttoavoidtalkingtohim.Idsitthere,listeningtohimwatchthe
television.Therewasanunspokenawkwardnessbetweenus,oneneitherofuscouldrightfullyplace.I
couldntanyway.Notatfirst.

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Attheendofhisfirstweek,hementionedthedoll.Ifeltasthoughhehadwantedtosincearriving,I
imaginethewordshadbeennaggingathislipsalldayandnight.
Whatsthat?
Heknewexactlywhatitwas.Iglancedcasuallyupwardsfromvacuuming.Myhandgrippedthesideofhis
armchair.
Dontyouremember?
Yes,Idoremember,hesaidquietly,angerstirringinhisface.ButIthoughtIdhavetobeseeingthings.
Isighedthroughgrittedteeth.Whatdoyoumean?
Itsmorbid,iswhatitis.Whyonearthwouldyouputsomethinglikethatupforeveryonetosee?
Itremindsmeofher,Irepliedmeekly.Doesitbotheryou?
Itsverystrange,Diane.Verystrange.
Thatstayedwithmefordays.
Onenight,wewerewatchingtelevision.Heddozedoffinthechair,andIwasabouttojoinhim.Asmy
eyelidsfellheavyovermyvision,Isuddenlycaughtsightofthedoll,itsfaceturnedenquiringlyatme.AsI
staredatit,halfasleep,myuncleswordsfromfloatedbackinmymind.
Whyonearthwouldyouputsomethinglikethatupforeveryonetosee?
Ihadshrugged,continuingmyhousework.Butthewordsreturnedtome,eachonechimingwithachilling
newsignificance.Iboltedupright,theshacklesofsleepfallingquicklyaway.Myeyesdriftedfromthedollto
myuncle,andback.SuddenlyrealisingIwasalmostcompletelyinthedark,Ileapttomyfeetandmadefor
thelightswitch.
UncleSidneystirredinhischair.
What?
Nothingnothing
Thelightwentbackoff.

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#
Thefollowingday,whileSidneyhadfallenasleepwatchingdaytimetelevision,Itookthedollfromits
rightfulperchandmarcheditupstairswithme.Inmybedroom,Itookadampcardboardboxfromthe
wardrobeandspiltthecontentsoverthemattressofmybed.
Yellowednewspaperclippingsandlegaldocumentstumbledontothesheets,curlingattheedgeslike
stalesandwiches.Isearchedthroughthem,spreadingeachoneoutinsearchofapattern.
Searchformissingchildcontinues
Localmansuspectedinchildsdisappearance
ThirtyYearsOnTheMysteryoftheLostGirlandtheDollsheleftbehind
Therewerephotostoo,blackandwhitesnapshotsofthetwoofusstandingtogetherinmatchingdresses.
Wewerebothsmiling,innocentsmiles.Irememberedhowwewouldplayintheforests,treatingthe
quarriesandminesasthoughsectionsofourownprivateplayarea.
Mysmilesoured.Iwantedtofightthethoughtsthatwerecreepingintomyhead,butinsteadIletthemflow
overme.
Whatifithadbeenhim?IknewIwasactingonirrationalimpulsesnamelytheevidenceofachildsdoll
butIcouldntstopmyself.Hehadalwaysbeenunusual,neverhavingmarriedorheldasteadyjob.Id
overhearmymotherandauntstalkpityinglyofhim,wishinghedfindanicegirltosettledownwith.Strange
thathedidnt.Strangerstillwashisstrainedandawkwardrelationshipwithme.Perhaps
Itrieddesperatelytomakesomethingofit,trawlingmymemoriesforanyhintsorclues.Myrecollectionsof
herdeatharehazyintheextreme,andIllonlyoccasionallyremembertheoddsceneorsnatchofdialogue
inpassing.Icouldpossiblyhaverepressedsomeofit,perhapsbecauseofhim.
OnethingIdorecallisthedayofherfuneral,witheveryonecladinblackandcryinginthelivingroom.I
hadbeensenttoplaywithmycousins,andwhenIreturnedeveryonewassittinginthechairs,eating
sandwichesanddrinkinglemonade.
Iaskedwhatwaswrong,andmyquestionhungintheroomforaneternity.ThenUncleSidneyhadlooked
atme,givingmeadistantandunfeelingglance.Ifeltasthoughhedtakenacold,bonyfingerandprodded
itintothebackofmyspine.ThenIhadstartedtocry.
Fortyyearslater,andIwasstillcrying.Crouchedovermypatchworkofpapers,Ifailedtopreventasteady
streamoftearsrollingdownmycheeksandintomymouth.Ifthesecloudyspeculationsformedintoahard
truththentherepercussionswerecolossal.ItalsomeantIwassharingahousewithachildkiller.Myblood
boiled,chilled,ranincoldstreamsthroughmyveins.Irantothedoorsuddenlyandboltedit.
Ipickedupourphotographagain,theblackandwhitesnapshotinthelivesoftwolittlegirls.Iwasworea
smugsmile,mythickblackhairboundinclumps.She,blondeandfreckled,presentedagaptoothedsmile
tothecamera.Thedollhungfromherhand,lopsidedheadandalsolookingabsentlyintothelens.
Istrokedit,acombinationofhopeandhorrorswillinginthepitsofmystomach.

#
Idroppedthetrayofprocessed,readycookedfoodontohislap.Hewincedwithpain,andlookedupatme
withaflashofanger.
Doyoumindnotdroppingitonmelikethat?
Sorry
Iopenedthecurtainsinarush,andunwelcomelightsprayedintotheroom.Themorningaftermy
epiphany,IdecidedthatIshouldinterrogatemyUncleaboutthesubjectwhichhadirritatedhimsomuch
thepreviousday.Isatdownonthesofaoppositehisarmchair,andoureyesinevitablydriftedtowardsthe
doll.
Whydidntyouwantmetohavethatdollupthere?
Hegrumbledintothehollowglobeofhisteacup.Itsmorbid,thatsall.
Howso?
Theangercreptintohisvoice.Becauseitsthedollofadeadchild.Anditwasusedattheinquest.
Ipouncedonasinglewordhehadchosen.Dead?Youreassumingshesdeadthen?
Ofcourseshesdead.Weheldafuneral.
Iknow,buttheyneverfoundherbody,didthey?Youdontthinkshe.ranaway?
Heturned,hiswrinkledfacetakinganagetoinclinetowardme.Heraisedhiseyebrowslowly.
Doyouthinksheranaway?
Iavertedhisgaze.Maybe
Webothreturnedtowatchingthetelevision.Amyriadofcolourswerethrownontothefaceofthedoll,
whichbecameanimatedundertherapidlychanginglights.Wesatinsilenceforafewhours,andthenI
helpedhimintobed.Ireturnedtothelivingroom,andwatchedthedoll.Itseemedunusualtofindthe
piecesfallingintoplacesolongafterthejigsawhadbeenthrownaway,butperhapsthingshadbeen
overlookedorrushedatthetime.Sidneyhadcertainlybeenquestionedbythepoliceinitially,butreleased
duetolackofevidence.
Sittingalonewithmythoughts,Iquicklyfellasleepandbegantodream.Iwaswalkingthroughaforest,and
everythinghadasepiatinge.UncleSidneywascallingtomefromsomewhere,butIonlysawflashesofhis
facethroughthetrees.Imnotsurewhetherhemovedtowardsmeorviceversa,buthiswhite,wrinkled
facewassuddenlyleeringintomyfacebehindamaskofbranchesandleaves.
Suddenlybackinmyhouse,wewatchedthetelevisionandItoldhimnottoscaremelikethatagain.He
laughedloudlyandhislaughsmutatedintoknocksatthedoor.AsIgotuptoanswer,Ishotacasualglance
atthemantelpiece.Thedollwasgone,andinitsplacealittlegirl.Adeadgirl.Withemptyeyesanda

bloodymouthandpaleasamortuaryslab.Iremembertryingtoscream.
WhenIawoke,thelivingroomwascoldandmymouthwasdry.Thedollwasslumpedforward,dirtyhair
hangingovertheface.Iheardshouting,vagueandwordless,andrantoSidneysroom.Hewassatinbed,
lookinghelplessandimpotent.Hiswhimperingfacestaredupatmelikeafrightenedchild.
Wherehaveyoubeen?
Sleeping.Imsorry.
Icantgetoutofbedbymyself.
IknowIknow
Ifeltapangofsympathyforhim,amomentarylapsethatquicklydissipated.Ijerkedhimuprightsuddenly,
andhisfacewincedinpain.
What?
Nothing,nothingjustmyleg
Iwasntthinkingrationallyatthispoint,alreadystartingtoconvincemyselfthathehadbeenheldupinher
death.Ifeltdrawntothemysterysurroundingher,asthoughashardofmyownlifewastrappedtheretoo.
Thetwoofuswereinseparableaschildren,anditspossiblethathewasinvolvedwithbothofus.Irealise
nowhowtwistedandpervertedthesethoughtswere,buttheyseemedsovividandrealatthetime.
Willyoubatheme?
Therewasapainfullylongsilence.
ItoldMarciaIcouldmanagebymyself.butIverealisedIcant.Ineedawash.couldyouhelpmein
andoutofthebath?
Theinitialthoughtfilledmewithrevulsion,butthensomethingclickedatthebackofmind.
Yeahyeahnoproblem
Itseemedperfect.Atimeforquestions.
Weagreedtohaveabaththefollowingnight.
Thisgavemeampletimetodecidemyquestions,toreassertthatIwasdoingtherightthing.Allthattime,
oneemptymindspinningwithfreshideas.WithindaysIhaddecidedhewasthekiller.Itfeltlikesucha
fittingconclusion,andIwonderedhowithadnotoccurredtomebefore.Afterall,itwasfactthatmurder
victimswereverylikelytoknowtheirkillers.
Myownchildhoodwasalsoextremelyhazy.Thereweresomanygaps,patchesofwhitethatIdesperately
wantedfilledin.IsupposeIcanseenowthatIwassearchingformyselfasmuchasIwasher.
Thefollowingmorning,Iplacedabaconsandwichonhislap.Hemurmuredthanksourconversations

havingslowedtobareminimum.Lookingupatme,hiseyesconveyinganuncertainty.
Aboutthatbath?
Yes,tonight.
Ibegantowalkaway,castingacasualglancebackwards.Hewasdoingexactlythesametome.Oureyes
metinanawkwardstare,andwebothquicklyreturnedtoourseparateactivities.
Thatnight,Idrewhimabath.Iwatchedasthecoolceramicwasfilledwithpipinghotwater.Steamroseto
theairandintomyeyes.Themirrorsturnedglassysilverastheysteamedover.
Thetemperatureoftheroomrosesteadilythesweatrunningdownmyarmsandminglingwiththe
bathwaterbeforeIcouldstopit.Iheardhimcoming.Iheardthedeepthudsofhiswalkingframeashe
madehiswayacrossthelandingtowardme.Whenhedidfinallyemerge,oureyesrefusedtomeet.
Walkingslowlytothebath,hiscanefellfromhisgraspinghandsandhitthecoolwhitetilesofthefloor.The
noiseitproducedmademefeellikeIdbeensmackedintheteeth.
Ihadtoundresshim,workingthrougheachlayerofclothesuntilwereachedhisbareandwrinkledflesh.
Watchinghimstandinginthecoldsentashiverdownmyspine.Agewasacruel,circularthingandin
Sidneysspotted,stretchedbodyIwasseeingtheworstithadtooffer.Iloweredhimintothetub,theclear
watermakinghisbodyswayandrippleasthoughitwerentactuallyreal.
Illjustcomebackinafewminutes.
Idescendedthestaircase,enteringthelivingroomatananglesothatthedollwaslookingrightatme.I
walkedover,liftingherfromtheseatshehadoccupiedforalmostfortyyears.AringofdustremainedasI
raisedthedollintomyarmsandcarriedheroutoftheroom.Herheadlolledinmylap,decayingface
noddingagainstmyheavingchest.Istrokedthedress,staredhopelesslyattheoptimisticcurveofherlips.
ForoneawfulmomentIfeltIwasholdingher,thedeadchildinmyarms.Itsdifficulttodescribe,butIfelt
thedollneededsodesperatelytobetheretohearwhateverhehadtosayforhimself.
IopenedthebathroomdooroncemoreandsawthelookofterrorshadowhisfaceasIbroughtheroverthe
threshold.Hiseyesdartedaroundawkwardly.
Whatthehellareyouholdingthatfor?
Iignoredhim,andplacedthedollonthewindowsill.Hewaswatchingit,ratherthanme,asIsteppedback
tothebathandkneltdownbesidesit.Hisheadturnedtomesuddenly,stillwaitingforananswer.
Well?
Iwantanswers,Sidney
Answersaboutwhat?
Abouther.
Themusclesaroundhismouthtwitched,histonguestrokingemptywords.Hespokecarefully,eachletter

andsyllablecarefullyenunciated.
Whatdoyouwanttoknow,Diane?
Ifeltmyconfidencefailing.Thesheeridiocyofthesituationknockedmesickinthestomach,andIalmost
laughedwithembarrassment.Ialmoststoppeddead,butthenIsawherface.Thefacethathasalways
livedoninmymemory,longafterthedeathanddecayoftheoriginal.Ipausedforwhatseemedlike
endlesstime,beforefinallysoldieringon.
Ithinktheremightbesomethingyouvenottoldme.Ithinkyoumayhavebeeninvolvedinherdeath.
Hiseyeswidenedinwhatappearedtobegenuineshock.Then,hisfacesunkbackdown.Hedidnt
answermyaccusations,butratherdirectedaquestionbacktome.
Doyourememberher,Diane?Doyoureallyrememberher?
Iwaspuzzledbythequestion.Ratherthanbringinghimbacktomypoint,Idecidedtoanswer.
Irememberheraboutaswellasanybodyelse.Obviously,therearegaps.
Really?Andhowmuchdoyourememberabouther?
Anostalgicsmilewetmylips.Oh,plenty.Hercurlyhair,hercutelittledresses,herlaughIreallyloved
her
Hesneered.Goosefleshrippledacrossmyarm.
Areyoulaughing?
Hisclawedhandreachedfromthebathtubandgrabbedmyhand.Waterranfromhisskintomine.His
eyeswereaflame,morelifeburninginsideofthemthanIhadseeninmanyyears.
Youhatedher.Hated.Youwentoutofyourwaytomakeherlifeamisery,didntyou?
Ibalkedatthesuggestion.Yourelying!Noneofthatstrue.
Youpushedher,youkickedher,andyoutoreherhairbecauseitwasnicerthanyours.Youwerean
absolutebitchtoher,Diane,andonlyIeverseemedtonotice
Ishookmyheadinutterdefiance,pullingawayfromhislimpgriponmyarm.
Yourejusttakingattentionawayfromyourself!Youremakingallthisup!
AndthatdollChrist,youweresojealousofthatthing.youusedtoactuallypullitoutofhergrasp,poor
thing
Achangehadfallenoverthedollsface.BeforeIhadvieweditasalivingbeing,thepersonificationofher
killersguilt.NowIsawonlyachildsdoll.Anemptything.
Canyoureallylookmeintheeyeandtellmeyouveforgotten?

Imethisangrygaze.Idontknowwhatyouretalkingabout.
Youwereanasty,malevolentlittlegirl,hislipcurledoverwithastrongandbitinghate.Ialwayssaidthat
somethingwouldhappen
Hewasleadingmesomewherewiththesequestions,downadarkanddustypath.Ilethimtakemethere,
draggedintohispoisonousreimaginingofourpast.
Youvegotsomenerve.accusingmeofsomething!Webothknowwhathappenedtoher
Ispatoutamutereply,mouthingonlytheghostsofthewordsIhadplannedtosay.Memorieswereslowly
comingbacktome,developinglikedarkroomphotographs.Everythingcoloured,memorieswerebright
andvibrantagain.
Hisfacewassouredlipssnarling.
Iknew,IknewitallalongIknewyouwereamaliciouschild.butthepolicewouldntlistenthey
thoughtIwasunhinged.ItriedItriedtotellthemthatitwas
You..
MyhandslippedagainstthewetsurfaceofthebathandIlostmybalance.Myheadmissedtheporcelain
byinches.Itriedtosteadymyselfagain,shaking.
No,IwouldntIwouldnever
IwouldandIhad.Irememberedthechildhoodjealousystirringinsideme,theplanshatchinginmymind,
andthedaywhereItoldherweweregoingtoplayalittlegameintheforest.Shehadlaughed,and
skippedbehindmeasweenteredthewoods.
Thereweresomanyofthoseoldminesinthoseforestssooldpeoplehadforgottentheywerethere
Herecountedthestoryasadespondentnarrator,grimlyretracingmyownbloodysteps.
Idontknowwhathappened,Iwasntthere.Myguessatthetimeandmyguessnowisthatyoulead
herintotheforest,intooneofthosemines.and
Hiseyeswereshiningwithtears.Iretchedandmymouthfilledsuddenlywithwarmandsicklybile.Ispatit
outagainstthecold,whitefloor.
Iwantedtoshoutoutmydenial,toscreamathimthathewasadirtylittleliar.IcouldntbecauseIknewhe
wastellingthetruth.Everythingwasclearnow,allthevividmemoriesforcingthemselvesagainstmyskull.
Itwaslikepeelingofflayersofmyskin,revealingarotteninnerself.Iknewallthewords:projection,denial,
repressionbutcouldntbelieveanyofthemappliedtome.Iwasntakiller.DianeSymonswasnotakiller.
Never.
Irememberedmygleefullysadisticbehaviourtowardsher.Ilovedtoteaseandtortureheritgaveme
somenavesenseofpoweroverweakercreatures.Allthesympathy,allthegriefhadbeenaninventionof
myownguiltypsyche.Evenmymemoryofleavingherfuneralcryinghadsuddenlybeenaltered,I

remembereditcorrectlynow.IhadbeentoldtoleavebecauseIcouldntstoplaughing.
Onlynowyoureremembering?Sidneysaid,remindingmehewasstillintheroom.Idontbelieveyou.
Ididntreplybecausetherewasnothinglefttosay.MywholelifeIhadletherbloodymurderscaboverwith
falsememoriesandinventedstories,tryingtofooleveryonesobadlythateventuallyevenIfellforit.He
rosefromthebath,andthewaterraninsnakesacrosshisbody.
Iturnedaroundandstaredatthedoll.Runningtowardsit,Ipickeditupandhelditagainstthelight.I
rememberedburyingher,coveringherprettywhitefacewithhandfulsofdirt.Ithadstuckundermynails,
andIdcleanedtheminthepond.
Istartedtocry.Thedolllookedatmeimpassively,givingmethesameblanklookithadforthepastforty
years.Ithadknownallalong.
Yousickenme,Dianeyouabsolutelydisgustme
Iranfromthebathroom.Myheadthrobbedsuddenly,andIfeltasthoughmywholebodywerepumping
withsick.Istopped,nearlylaughed,andrememberedthatallthiswasactuallyhappening.Itriedtomakeit
fiction,butrealitywasscreaminginmyhead.
Idontknowwhatshappenedtohim.Ivelefthiminthebath.Maybehellgetoutormaybehewilljustgive
upanddrown.Idontknow.Icantcare.
Iaminmyroom,withthenewspaperclippings.Mystery?Therewasneveramystery.Justtheusualhorror
clich,akillerhidingbehindamask.Inmyonehandisthedoll,andintheotherIclutchthetelephone,
readytocallthepolice.Iwillhavetodroponeofthem.IdontknowwhattotellthemifIdo.DianeSymons
didntkillanyone,atleastnottheDianeshethoughtshewas.Ivechangedsomuch.Imnotthesame
personanymore.AmI?
AmI?
Thedollcracksasshehitsthefloor.
2010

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