This is the first, and possibly the last time I post something like this on this site, I don’t know who to talk to anymore.
Bellow, is the biggest mistake I’ve made.
When we were 16, my best friend and I decided to explore an abandoned house that was about 2-3 blocks away from his house. We had intentionally chosen to visit the house in the middle of the night. I told my parents that I would be at his house, and he had told his parents that he would be at mine, something we’d do regularly. So, we just grabbed 2 flashlights and started the 5 minute walk to the house.
At first when we got there, it seemed rather uneventful and pretty much lame. It was obvious that we were not the first to visit the house, as all three floors had signs of wear and tear. Debris covered the floors, and the walls were filled with holes and torn wallpaper. Soon, we ended up in the third floor, and as we explored, we split up, each entering different rooms. I chose the first room in the hall, while he went into the room opposite of mine. It was a nondescript bedroom it had a single bed with a drawer, I started to look around for anything interesting but suddenly, I heard my friend calmly calling my name. I started heading towards the door, annoyed, but before I could ask him what he wanted, he rushed into the room, placed his hands over my mouth, and whispered for me to be quiet because the voice calling my name wasn’t him.
Initially skeptical, thinking he was fucking with me I went to grab his hand and tell him that he was in fact not funny, but when I heard the same voice -his voice- calling my name again even though my friend was right in front of me, my belief in his seriousness solidified. No one else knew about us visiting the house that night, so it couldn’t be any of our stupid friends playing a prank on us.
I’ve never felt such fear before, it was as if I had died, I felt my heart stop and a sudden feeling of dizziness make me feel like I wanted to throw up. We ran and hid next to the bed for what felt like hours, though it was probably closer to 20-30 minutes. Eventually, gathered the courage we started going down the stairs, trying to make our way out of that fucking house. When we reached the second floor however, we once again heard that fucking voice, a voice that I wish I could hear again, even though it’s responsible for my friends disappearance.
I am ashamed to admit it, but panic overcame me, and I started running. In the chaos, I dropped my flashlight and, guided only by the minimal moonlight, kept running. I abandoned my best friend. I heard his voice asking for help, but I didn’t stop, I never looked back. Eventually I reached outside, I turned around, waiting for him to follow, but he never did. I waited for what felt like an eternity and just prayed that he would show up, but he never came out of that house.
It’s been three years, and he is still missing. The Cops went to the house and found my flashlight the second floor where I originally dropped it and my friends flashlight in room at the third floor. Was he dragged there?
Every time I lay on my bed at night I wonder what happened in that house after I bailed on him. Was he kidnapped? Did he suffer? What did that thing do to him, and what was it?
It’s his birthday today, and I can’t bear the guilt any longer. I can’t face his parents anymore. His mother hasn’t left the house since the day her son went missing and his family is torn apart, there is nothing holding them together anymore. Sometimes, when I’m alone at night, I can hear him asking for help, I can hear his voice begging for help, but I cant help him, I feel trapped.
I wish we never went to that house.
I’m sorry William.
Happy Birthday man.