Hey. I don’t even know where to begin. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I need to get this off my chest before something terrible happens. I can’t keep living like this, constantly haunted by the guilt and the presence that has infiltrated my life.
It all started eight years ago. My best friend, Jenna, and I were driving home after a night of drinking. We were young, foolish, and invincible—or so we thought.
Jenna was drunk and high so she asked me to drive us home, I was also very drunk, but I thought I could manage the 15 minute drive, I was wrong. We hit a girl, Emma, who appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the road. We were in a panic, overwhelmed by the fear of the consequences. It was a rash decision born out of desperation. We decided to bury her body deep within the woods, hoping no one would find out.
The guilt consumed me from the moment we dug that grave. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t escape the feeling that Emma’s father, now living without answers, was suffering because of our actions. The weight of our secret was unbearable, and I knew I had to confess. I had to tell him what happened to his precious daughter, even if it meant facing the consequences of my actions.
But Jenna, oh god, Jenna was terrified. She was paralyzed by fear and uncertainty. She insisted that we stay silent, that we let the years pass without revealing the truth. I could see the torment in her eyes, the guilt eating away at her soul, just like it was consuming mine. Yet she remained adamant, refusing to admit our involvement in that tragic night.
Years went by, and the guilt only grew stronger. To make matters worse, news reached me that Emma’s father had taken his own life. I couldn’t help but feel responsible. The thought that our actions had driven him to such despair, that we had torn a family apart, was unbearable.
But then, Jenna began experiencing strange occurrences. She said she was being followed, that she felt a constant presence lurking just out of sight. At first, I dismissed her fears as a product of our guilt-ridden minds. But as time went on, her terror escalated, and it became impossible to ignore.
Jenna confided in me about her fears, about the feeling that someone or something was after her. And then, just like that, she vanished without a trace. Nobody knows where she is, and the police are baffled. But I know. I know that her disappearance is connected to that horrific night, to the secrets we buried deep within the woods.
Now, I’m being tormented too. The unknown figure that Jenna spoke of has turned its attention towards me. I feel its presence lurking around every corner, in the shadows outside my window. It’s following me, stalking me. And worst of all, it knows what we did. It knows the terrible secret we’ve been hiding for all these years.
I can’t escape the feeling that this figure, this malevolent force, is seeking revenge for what we did to Emma. It wants to make us suffer, to pay for the life we took that night. It won’t stop until it has torn apart everything I hold dear.
As I write this, I sit alone in my room, my eyes constantly flicking to the window overlooking the haunting forest. The trees stand tall and foreboding, their branches reaching out like skeletal arms. And there, emerging from the darkness, is the creature that has haunted my nightmares for months. It moves with an unnatural grace, its eyes glowing with a malevolence that chills me to the bone.
I don’t know what will happen next. I don’t know if I’ll survive this night or if I’ll meet the same fate as Jenna. All I know is that I can’t run from my past any longer. The horrors that have befallen us are a consequence of our actions, and now it’s time to face them head-on.
If you never hear from me again, remember my story. Remember the darkness that lies within the woods and the guilt that can consume even the strongest of souls. And if you ever find yourself driving through the night, remember the choices you make, for they have the power to haunt you until the end of your days.
Goodbye. I can hear it at my door now, scratching, clawing its way into my sanctuary. I hope that my words reach someone, that they serve as a warning. Don’t let the guilt eat away at you like it did me. Don’t let the horrors of the past come back to claim you.
I’m sorry, Emma. I’m so, so sorry.