Dear Diary, Sunday October 24th, 2021
Dear Diary,

Sunday October 24th, 2021
 horror stories
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secretgeek
secretgeek Born on All Hallow's Eve...
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A small-town schoolgirl holds a terrible secret. But what will she do to keep it?

Dear Diary, Sunday October 24th, 2021

We only hurt the ones we love. I didn’t know what that meant until today. I do now.

We only hurt the ones we love. I didn’t know what that meant until today. I do now. The police took my father away this morning.

It was cold, colder than it has been. Like the last of the life has been finally squeezed out of summer and there’s only bleakness left. A gray bleeding-away of light.

They picked him up in a patrol car. There was another car that followed it. I recognized it from before. That Lewinski cop. The one who’d never really bought my story.

The phones have been ringing all day. The house phone. My phone. Mostly my mom’s phone.

Worried friends; concerned neighbors; curious well-wishers.

Worried friends; concerned neighbors; curious well-wishers. He-couldn’t-have-done-it.

Worried friends; concerned neighbors; curious well-wishers. He-couldn’t-have-done-it. Not-your-Ernie.

Worried friends; concerned neighbors; curious well-wishers. He-couldn’t-have-done-it. Not-your-Ernie. Wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly.

The conversations all ended the same way: what do you think happened?

It was at the end of the day, when my mom had unplugged the house phone and switched her cell off, that she sat me down. She looked drained. She looked like Sam’s mother had when she had come to my school.

I could hear a voice in the back of my head. “You did this to her!” it cried. It always cried.

“I need to talk to you,” my mom began. That was always bad. “The thing with dad?” I asked. She nodded. She took my hand.

“The police say they have enough evidence to keep him in overnight.” My heart sank. “They’ve impounded the car,” mom said, and then added, “it means…”

“I know what it means, Mom,” I replied. “Do you?” she looked at me for a long time, her eyes flickering slightly in her head. Asking unaskable questions; probing unthinkable answers.

“But they’ll let him out,” I offered, breaking the long silence. “If they search the car. If they find nothing there.” “If they find nothing there,” she repeated. The words stung.

“You know he’d go to jail for this?” she added. “I won’t let him,” I replied, forcing tears back into their ducts. She fixed me with a determined gaze.

“He would go to jail,” she said again. “He’s a good man, your father. He’d do the right thing. For us. For family.” There were so many things that I wanted to say, but this wasn’t one of those conversations.

“He would go to jail,” she said again. “He’s a good man, your father. He’d do the right thing. For us. For family.” There were so many things that I wanted to say, but this wasn’t one of those conversations. This was about what was not said.

“He’s a good man,” I repeated. “He doesn’t deserve to go to jail.” “No,” my mother replied in a monotone. “He doesn’t.” She let go of my hand.

“I know you love your father,” she said. “I know you’d do anything to help him. To protect him.” “I would,” I replied. I meant it. I would do anything. “I know you would,” she replied. “I’m asking you not to…”

The world fell away beneath me. I knew what she was asking. What she was asking me not to do. I knew she had made a choice. A terrible, unavoidable choice between us. And I knew I’d forced her into it.

Somewhere, at the back of my mind, the twisted shade of a girl who looked like me leered from her darkened corner. Leered and hissed, “You did this to her! You did it!”

~Thx for reading. Another entry tomorrow and every day in October. ~Pls like and follow. ~Comments most welcome on all work always. ~@SecretGeek

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