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What’s Done in the Dark Will Always Find the Light…

By Mina RameyPublished 5 years ago 4 min read
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Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

“Hello? Donaldson residence?”

“Hi, Mommy.”

“Who is this?”

“You don’t recognize your own daughter?”

Delia’s blood instantly ran cold. There was no way it could be her. Mackenzie had been missing for 15 years, gone without a trace.

“If you think this is some kind of joke, you’re sick!”

“Oh, no. This is no joke.” The woman on the other end chuckled. “It’s been far too long, Mommy. Is Daddy still there?”

As if on cue, Brad came walking up behind her. “Who is it, dear?”

“Someone who is playing a very sick joke!” Delia yelled into the phone. “She’s claiming to be Mackenzie!”

Brad’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Without warning, he grabbed the phone and donned his best authoritative tone. “Who is this and why are you harassing my wife?”

“Hello, Daddy,” the woman’s voice chimed. “Is it so bad that I want to speak to my parents one more time? 15 years is a long stretch to go without speaking to either you, but you already know that, don’t you?”

Brad’s hands began to shake as he pressed the speakerphone button. He set the phone down a little too hard on the table, not knowing what possessed him to not simply hang up, but he listened nonetheless.

“Don’t you both remember? I know it’s been a while, but I’m sure you didn’t forget that night. It was warm and the moon was full and red. The stars were out and I did my best to count them as we drove down that dark desert road. I was only 10. I didn’t feel good that night, must’ve been something I ate. Wasn’t it, Mommy? You made my favorite: spaghetti and meatballs. It tasted a little different than it usually did, but you both always taught me to eat what was in front of me and be grateful for it.”

A small sob from Delia tore Brad’s gaze from the phone. He caught his wife just as her knees gave out. He held her tight in his arms as the voice continued.

“So, I was a good girl and did what I was told, but something just didn’t feel right. I even told you it didn’t. Do you remember what you said to me, Daddy? Nothing a nice peaceful drive couldn’t fix.”

“I-” Brad began, his voice cracking with guilt. “I remember,” he admitted quietly. “I told you to try and count the stars to take your mind off your tummy ache.”

But it didn’t help!” The woman screeched, before calming once more. “I just kept getting worse and worse. What did you do then? Mommy, why don’t you tell me?”

Delia stifled another sob. After a few shaky breaths, she answered. “I said that we should pull over and let you sit outside on the cool ground with the cool night air. I-I-” Her voice broke and Delia cried almost uncontrollably as she willed herself to continue. “I said that it would help you feel better!

“Tell me, Mommy. Did I feel better?” After a lengthy pause, the impatience returned in the woman’s voice. “Answer me! Did I feel better?

“No!” Both parents cried, tears running down both their faces.

“Of course not,” she calmly replied. “That was what you wanted. At least you have the decency to stay with me until everything got dark. The last thing I remember? The sounds of your footsteps walking away from me and Mommy telling Daddy that you were finally free.”

Delia buried her face into Brad’s shirt, her sobs turning into wails. In Brad’s mind, he knew he needed to calm his wife or risk rousing their neighbors, but he was too numb to move or even speak.

“But you’re not free.” The woman giggled. “You’ve never been free. What you’ve done has always followed you. You just never paid attention. I’ve always been there, watching you. Seeing how you played your roles perfectly, ever the grieving parents. You had everyone fooled. Everyone.” The woman paused before releasing a sinister chuckle. “Well, almost everyone. All these years, I’ve waited for my chance, just the right moment to tell you. I know what you’ve done and now you get to answer for your crimes.”

“What do you mean?” Brad’s voice shook with fear.

“What do you think I mean, Daddy?” The woman giggled. “I’m coming home.”

Delia finally lifted her face from Brad’s shirt and looked at the phone, her body trembling like a leaf.

“Coming home?” She whispered.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The line disconnected just as the door slammed open. There stood a woman in the late afternoon sun, a tattered stuffed bear dangling from her grasp. Her matted hair haloed her dirt-caked face and the smile she wore was nothing short of maniacal.

“Mommy. Daddy,” she called in a hauntingly sing-song voice. “I’m home.”

fiction
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About the Creator

Mina Ramey

I read too much, I writing even more (Urban Fantasy is home sweet home!), and I have an almost unhealthy obsession with gaming. Any of my other oddities can be discussed over tea!

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