Ghost In the Graveyard | COMPLETED

• 8/10 • Ghosts and Gods

"Nothing Personal" by Night Riots

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Sunday: October 30, 1994
5:43 PM

"I can't keep avoiding this. The guilt has been making me sick. I need to come out with it."

I'd lost my voice. All I could do was shake my head. This wasn't happening.

"The night you died, Sam... I was there, in the cemetery."

"Stop," I managed. Tears threatened my vision, and I felt like I was about to choke. "Please, stop."

"I can't," Scott explained. "I need to do this now, Sam. While I still have the chance."

I turned away from him, unable to look at him as he spoke. "What are you talking about?"

"The witches—I was one of them."

The words hit me like a swift kick to the gut. I felt like I was going to throw up. "You're lying."

"Why would I lie about this? I was there, but I didn't kill you. I saw you standing there, watching us. You made me nervous, so I stopped. It's my fault they saw you. It's my fault you're dead."

"It can't be," I said in hardly a whisper.

He let out a deep sigh before speaking, as if he couldn't believe what he was about to say. "They called me by phone a week before that night. A woman told me she understood me, told me she was 'like me.' I wasn't sure what she meant, but I listened. I still don't know how they found me, but she said to meet them at the graveyard October eleventh. I figured it was just a prank or something, but I went anyway. Once I got there, they were already dressed so I couldn't see their faces. I have no clue who any of them were. They had me put on those weird clothes and help them with their ritual, and I don't know why I did any of it. I knew I should've ditched, but I didn't. Then I saw you.

"They didn't tell me what any of it was about. I wasn't told why they were performing the ritual in the first place. I didn't know they were going to kill anyone! You ran, and I went after you. I followed you into the woods, planning to help you get out and maybe even take you home. But they used their magic on me to trap me in the woods. I was stuck in there for hours.

"When I finally found my way out, everyone was gone. I got home just before sunrise, had to climb in my window so my dad didn't catch me. I didn't get a moment of sleep that night. I couldn't stop thinking about you. It was when I got to school that I found out you were missing. The guilt consumed me."

I clenched my fists. I was furious. I couldn't believe what he was saying. "Is that why you've been helping me? Out of guilt?"

He stood, arms up in surrender. "No! Sam, I've been helping you because I like you. These last couple weeks, you've become more of a friend to me than I've ever had."

Suddenly, he laughed like a mad man. It sounded so crazy, I took a subconscious step back.

"I like you, Sam! I really, really do. I want more than anything to save you. If I can find a way to bring you back, I'll take it. I'd do whatever it takes to see you alive again."

I wasn't sure what I was feeling at this point. I was so full of anger, sadness, disappointment, even joy at hearing he liked me, I didn't know what to say. Instead, I let my fist do the talking. I lifted my arm behind my head and let it swing right into his face.