The next entry was from just a few days ago.

/GOD FUCKING DAMMIT, I LOST MY JOB! I FUCKING LOST IT ALL THANKS TO HER! That petulant, immature, screeching, whiney ass, worthless fuck whistle mom cost me my fucking job! HOW FUCKING DARE SHE!! HOW DARE SHE GET IN THE WAY OF MY LIFE, MY HOPES AND DREAMS, MY FUTURE!!! I SWEAR I’M GONNA RIP HER A NEW ASSHOLE!/

Kayla turned to the next page, anticipating the worst.

/No more. That’s it! I’ve had it! I can’t take it anymore! I’ve put up with her for long enough! After I lost my job I yelled at my mom for getting me fired, and she ended up hitting me! I was ready to walk out right then and there, but when I later snuck into her room to grab some money to get me out of here, I finally found out what’d been happening to my paychecks lately. They were being sent to me. I looked through her drawers and I found a bunch of envelopes with money and paychecks in them. All of them for me. That right there took the fucking cake! That’s where MY money went this whole time! SHE STOLE THEM FROM ME! ALL MY HARD EARNED MONEY! THAT WAS ALL MINE AND SHE KEPT IT FROM ME! And I know why she did that. She knew I couldn’t stand it here anymore. She knew I wanted to leave eventually. Sooner than eventually, and there’d be no one left to baby HER. So once again she sabotaged my chance at freedom! MY ONLY WAY OUT! SHE CAN’T DO THIS TO ME ANYMORE! I’VE HAD ENOUGH!!

As I’m writing this at 3 in the morning, I know that I have to do it. I know what needs to be done. As I’m writing this I’m coming up with a plan. Later this morning, I’m going kill her./

Kayla’s eyes widened. ’Oh no. No! Oh god no!’ The date of the entry was earlier today.

/After too long long of dealing with my bitch of a mom I’m going to fucking murder her! And I won’t just kill her. I’LL MAKE HER SUFFER! MAKE HER SUFFER LIKE SHE’S HAD ME SUFFER FOR AS LONG AS I REMEMBER! I’ve looked up several stories online about murders, especially ones that relate to me. Like this one teenager who killed her parents in Georgia. These stories should help give me ideas on how to do this. Later on I’ll sneak out and get whatever tools I’ll need to finish the job. Hopefully I’ll get out of the house quietly enough. If all goes well I’ll write it down./

As the writing became more intense, Kayla noticed how ingrained all the capitalized words were on the next page. Made it easy for her to imagine just how furiously Melanie wrote these sections.

The next entry’s chaotic writing struck her like lightning, but what was written disturbed her more.

/I did it. I killed her. I FINALLY KILLED HER! FINALLY!! YES! She’s dead! She’s finally fucking dead and out of my life! FOREVER!! I can’t even express in words how fucking SATISFYING it was beating my mom to a bloody pulp! I even stomped the fuck out of her! If I could, I’d be using her bloody corpse as a punching bag. Why not? That’s how she’s treated me for years. Took long enough to clean off all the blood. Still got some bloody sheets, I can use them to wrap up her body and get rid of more evidence. Once that’s all done I gotta get out of here. Hopefully that won’t take me too long.

After I finish dumping my mom’s body, or what’s left of it, somewhere that not even God will find her, I think I’ll pay my dick-less dad a little visit./

That was the last of what was written. On the last page was some bloody fingerprints and smears. Kayla dropped the book. Shaking.

This couldn’t be happening! She couldn’t believe she read every word of this. That this was written by her friend, her best friend. Kayla didn’t want to believe what Melanie could’ve done, on this very day. That the writing on paper wasn’t hers, that the words didn’t come from her, but the handwriting, she knew that was Melanie’s. Who was her friend? She looked around the room quickly in a panic, there had to be something else filling in the rest of the details, something telling her where she could be, or even, she hoped, something to distill her fear, to confirm that everything was okay and she was okay. She didn’t that, or anything. She looked everywhere in her room, everywhere except… The dresser door. Always closed. Melanie told not to look in it without her permission. There it stood, the dread of an unknown horror making it more imposing than normal. What hell was waiting to be found? Should she open it, or no? Invade her friend’s privacy and wishes? She would never dream of it before. Never had any reason to. But now, there might be, especially after reading someone’s private journal.

Still, it’s usually locked anyway, so that was enough reason not to try before. But wait, the lock, she spotted, was unlocked. Why would it be unlocked? There was no excuse anymore, now she had to know. If there was nothing wrong inside, nothing was wrong, but if she did find something possibly worse than what she read? She had no idea.

Stiffly she approached it, not taking the fastest steps she could’ve. Trembling, her hand reached toward the handle, inch by inch. Finally, she had a grip on it. Seconds passed, still hadn’t opened it. Her eyes shut tight, her shaking becoming more apparent, until finally, she swung it open to face what was inside.

‘OH MY GOD!’ She screamed in her mind. She was tearing up.

Inside, on one of the shelves, sat a severed finger. Wasn’t much blood leaking from it, but a small amount was still present.

‘NO NO NO! NOO! NOO! This can’t be real!’

It was. It was real, sitting there right before her. Every line and curve, it was human flesh and bone. On the finger was a ring. A ring with an emerald gemstone. One that she’s seen before, on the several occasions she visited the Reed house, and knew who’s it was. A small brown bump on the finger also helped to confirm its owner.

‘HER MOM’S RING!!’

Bethany Reed was gone.

Kayla finally let out a scream.

That finally did it for her. She couldn’t deny it anymore. Melanie Reed, her best friend of at least four years, was a murderer. This was so unreal to Kayla. She wished this was all just a nightmare, but she doubted having that luck. Then she realized: She called the police on her best friend. They were going to be there soon enough, she knew there wasn’t much time until they got there.

‘What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?? I might’ve just busted Melanie! I can’t turn her over to the cops! But she killed her own mom! Though it sounded like her mom was awful to her, but she still killed someone! And she might kill more people!’ Kayla debated with herself, her hands holding onto both sides of her head.

Wait, the journal.

She turned her attention to it. The journal and the finger would be the only evidence to Melanie’s crime here, what could stop Kayla from hiding them and covering for her friend? But that would be obstruction of justice. Kayla knew that, and she knew that if the cops found out she’d be in just as much trouble as Melanie.

Kayla stared at the journal, struggling to decide what she had to do. Who knew how close the police were, but the clock was ticking. Her eyes twitched, her hands clenched, and her body trembled. After a few minutes her body relaxed.

Finally, she made her decision. She picked the journal up from the floor and set it on the bed, and she sat next to it. They were coming, and she was going to wait for them. She stared ahead of her, slowly her eyes watering up more, her face and eyes became redder, and her lip trembled. She broke into tears.

Anyone Home? © 2018, Jackie Caslis