It’s been 3 years since my best friend, Poppy, was taken from this world. She was kind, funny, charismatic, smart, everything you could want in a pal. Unfortunately, two robbers broke into her house and she was killed while trying to defend herself. I cried all day and night when I heard the news. I still cry to this day. They were never caught and it just…went cold.
I still have her number saved on my phone, I don’t have it in me to delete it. I love looking through our past conversations and even message her from time to time just to let her know what I’m up to these days. I know she won’t see them but it’s how I cope.
18 March 2023 was the third anniversary and I spent it like I do every other March. Going to her grave and talking to her. Then I went home and started to prepare dinner. PING. PING. My phone started to go off. My mum was probably asking how the visit went.
I picked up the phone and nearly dropped it in the pot of boiling water I had prepared for my pasta. Poppy. “What the…fuck?” I gasped, clutching the phone in my hand. This is a sick joke. It must be.
“Hey Bunny! Miss you so much!” the first message read. “I have something to tell you!” The other one read.
My hands were shaking so much as I tried to text back that I just gave up and rang the number. No answer. I tried again. No answer.
“Whoever is doing this it is NOT FUNNY!!” I sent the text and got a reply almost immediately.
“It’s me bunny!! I know who did it!” It read. What the hell is happening right now. I put the phone down and went back to cooking. PINGPINGPINGPING.
“Don’t ignore me.” “I’m trying to help you.” “I know who did it.” “Darryl. Peter.”
I stared at the messages for so long, I felt them burn into my eyes. I blinked and reached for the phone, then hesitated. Darryl was her ex boyfriend and Peter was his friend.
“If it was those two, don’t you think they would’ve been caught!” I screamed, wagging the wooden spoon in my hand. Am I really scolding a ghost texter right now? PING.
“DARRYLPETERDARRYLPETERDARRYLPETER” I started to feel sick. I turned the stove off and headed to bed. I’ve completely lost my appetite. I flopped into bed and closed my eyes. My head was spinning and my stomach was twisting and turning.
PING. PINGPING. PINGPINGPING. I grabbed a pillow and shoved it over my face, trying to block out the noise. “It’s just a prank, it’s just a prank.” I whispered to myself, trying to calm down but fuck, my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. I let the phone ping all night and it eventually put me to sleep.
I had a dream. Poppy was there. We were having coffee at our favourite cafe and it was so nice to look at her face. We chatted and laughed together. A storm started to brew and the smile on her face dropped. “WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME!” She screamed like a banshee, I had to cover my ears and she continued. “WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME!” I started to cry. “Poppy…please.” I whimpered and begged her to stop. But she wouldn’t, she just got louder and louder until I could feel blood tricking from my ears.
Struggling myself awake, I sat up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. “I need to call the police.” I mumbled.