This is my scary Halloween story. Warning: you will be creeped out.

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“I hate you! I’ll always hate you!” Mary screamed as tears ran down her face.

“Well if you hate me so much, why don’t you just leave!” I yelled back.

“I hate you!” she choked out.

“Fine, then. You can die for all I care!” I yelled as she turned to leave.

With a sob, she ran from the room, slamming the front door behind her.

My head was still reeling as I heard her car start. Moving to the window on my front door, I looked out through the rain as her green Honda pulled away.

I frowned and realized this meant we were probably broken up.

“Stuff happens.” I told myself. “Don’t blame yourself.”

I winced as I remembered telling her she could die. I didn’t really mean that. I cared about Mary. I didn’t want to hurt her…

The blood started to drain from my head and I washed my face before heading to work. Work would be a good distraction.

___________________________________________________________________

Sometime after lunch, I was steadily plowing through a consumer report when I my phone buzzed frantically against my leg. I could see on my caller ID it was Mary’s BFF Grace. Why did she need to call me? She worked right downstairs from me as our secretary. She could just walk on up.

It must have been important.

My boss had said before we’re not supposed to take personal calls on company time, but I‘d never paid much attention to rules.

“Hello?” I answered, ready to get run through the mill.

Grace’s voice was strained. “Oh my god, Bill.” she said with her voice wavering painfully. “It’s Mary.”

“What?” I asked, worried. “What’s wrong?”

She told me.

It happens a hundred times a week: Someone comes up to an intersection and if their light is green, they go on through. There’s not supposed to be anything coming from the sides, their lights are red. Logging trucks can’t stop on a dime though, especially when the road is slick with rain.

Mary had been smashed into pudding against the grill of a Mack Truck.

They say when you lose someone special, a part of you dies with them. I’d have to agree. It didn’t matter that we’d had a fight, time after that moment passed like a blur. The first week was the worst: I must have lost it a thousand times. God, I missed her.

Gradually, it seemed like I was getting over her. I didn’t tear up every time I got into bed alone. I didn’t sniffle any time I saw someone hugging their friend. Losing my girlfriend was the hardest thing in my life up until then, but people change and time passes. I made it through.

_______________________________________________________________________

A year later to the day, I got a text message some time after lunch.

I looked down at my phone. The ID didn’t pick it up as one of my contacts,

but the number still looked familiar.

They’d told me before that we weren’t supposed to take personal calls during business time but I’d never paid much attention to the rules.

The message came onto my phone’s screen.

IT’S YOUR FAULT.

I frowned at my phone.

“What the hell?” I asked out loud.

My blood ran hotter as I wondered what this was supposed to mean. Was it from one of my buds telling me I should have worn my lucky hat to the ball game last night? Or was it about…

“Mary.” I murmured.

Who the hell would send a message like this? I had to wonder. It was messed up and perverted. It was sick and disgusting. It hadn’t been my fault. Mary had been driving herself the day she died.

But only because you yelled at her. A small voice reminded me.

I shut my phone and rubbed my forehead. Who could have done this? Was it one of her old friends riling me for not doing something I should have?

Flicking the phone back open, I checked my inbox to see who it was who had sent the message.

It was empty.

“What the hell?” I asked again.

I frowned and shut my phone. Then I opened it back up and looked in my inbox again. There weren‘t any messages at all. I didn’t remember deleting it. Where had it gone?

A headache started grinding against my skull and I popped a Tylenol from the bottle I always keep in my pocket.

Tired, frustrated, angry, and sad; all I wanted to do was go home.

I pulled my raincoat on and shut down my office computer.

No one talked to me as I left and that was good thing. I didn’t want to talk.

But I didn’t make it all the way out.

“Where’re you going?”

Crap. It was Grace, Mary’s old friend.

I turned around and swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t feel well. I’m going home early.”

Grace frowned and waved me over. I didn’t want to hear what she had to say but I slinked up to her desk anyway.

“Is this about Mary?” she asked.

I was shocked. Shocked that she would have the nerve to ask a question like that and shocked that she had seen through me so easily.

“No.” I lied.

“BS.” she told me. “Look, I know you think it was your fault, but you can’t keep blaming yourself for it. What happened, happened. Don‘t beat yourself up about it.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” Grace asked, frowning through brown lashes.

What was I supposed to tell her? That I had gotten a phantom text message blaming me for her death? I couldn’t tell her that. The words sounded stupid even in his head. I just needed to go home and get some rest.

Shaking my head with a sigh, I brushed her off. “I just need to go home. I might do a shot or two.”

Grace nodded, still looking worried. “I’ll call you.”

The lump lunged into my throat again, but I forced it back down. “Thanks.”

The rain was coming down thicker and faster as I splashed through the parking lot towards my Ford sedan.

Crap, there was a ticket on the windshield. How could there be a ticket, though? I hadn’t parked in the handicapped spot this time. I didn’t even park in a fire lane. Scowling, I snatched the green slip off the windshield.

It was dry, so it must not have been there for every long.

It wasn’t a ticket, though. Scrawled across the front in all too familiar writing was the message again.

IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT.

“Holy God!” I yelped and jumped so bad I dropped the ticket.

Recoiling, I pushed myself away from the note as it fluttered down into the small river in the street and slid into a gurgling storm drain.

What the hell was that all about? I tried to calm my breathing, but I was too worked up. The note had been dry, and from the way it was raining, it

couldn’t have been there long without getting soaked. I looked up and down

the roadway, looking for whoever could have left it.

No one. Not a soul.

And who would be running around outside at a time like this? I had to ask myself.

It wasn’t until I pulled my keys out and tried to unlock my door that I realized I was shaking. Jeez, I was shaking a lot.

“Come on Bill, get it together.” I growled at myself.

I tried again to fit the key into the lock but it kept bouncing off.

Giving up, I tried the unlock button on my keypad.

The lights didn’t flash and the horn didn’t toot. I swore and lowered my eyebrows some more. Clearing my head, I held the key with both hands. Focusing with heroic effort, I managed to jam it into the lock. Amazingly, I had enough composure to turn the key without pulling it back out and I gained entry. Sighing with relief, I ducked down into the driver’s seat.

My hand was still shaking but I fitted the key into the ignition and gave it a twist.

*Click*. The car went.

I closed my eyes and bumped my head against the steering column. The battery was dead.

With a painful sigh, I slid back out of the car and locked the door.

That’s okay, I reassured myself. I don’t live far from here. It won’t be so hard to just walk; even in this deluge.

Sniffing again, I might have been catching a cold, I walked out of the parking lot and down to the street. The streets were flowing now with drainage off the streets. Clogged storm drains were doing nothing for the water. Too much rain and the drains wouldn’t work.

Sighing one more time, I started meandering down the street.

“It’s only 7 blocks.” I told myself. “7 blocks isn’t that far.”

As I headed down the street, I thought about the events up until now. Bummer of a day; in fact it outright sucked. I sniffed and began to wonder what was at the root of it all. I was probably just too tired from staying up the night before. Yeah, tired. I was tired so I forgot to turn out the lights in my car and I probably just fell asleep and dreamed about the text message.

But what about the note? You couldn’t have imagined that.

Crap, I was right; unless I was hallucinating, and that would be worse.

I was still wondering what in God’s name was going on when I heard footsteps behind me.

Splish-splash, splish-splash they went.

Huh, so someone else was out in the weather. I smiled. Sucks for them. Somehow, knowing someone else was experiencing the same thing made me feel a little bit better. Sure, they probably weren’t having a nightmare of a day, but at least they were stuck out in the rain.

The splashing didn’t fall back or pass me so I kept walking. It always weirded me out when people turned to look at me when I was walking so I didn’t look back. I just kept walking home, minding my own business.

1 block, 2 blocks, the steps were still there. 3 blocks, 4 blocks. The steps were still there.

I was starting to wonder where this person could be going, I could understand walking along the same path for a few blocks, but I was getting close to 5. The windows were covered in fog so I couldn’t look into any of the reflections to see who was behind me. That bugged me. It wasn’t like they were a mugger. A mugger would have attacked by now.

Just mind your own business. Leave them alone. It’s probably a grandma headed home from a cribbage game.

But I was too curious. I couldn’t stand it; the mystery steps were driving me crazy. I snuck just a peek over my shoulder.

Nothing. The street was empty.

I stopped in my tracks and turned all the way around. “What the hell?” I asked again.

I was sure there had been steps. I was sure of it. What was going on? Was I going insane?

My heart began beating faster. This was just plain creepy. I shook myself to relieve pent up tension and turned back around…

There was a man. A man stood before me in a dark black raincoat with the brim pulled low. I could see the steam rising from the hood’s opening but I couldn’t make out a face.

“Hey-” I started before he jumped forwards.

“OH, MY GOD!” I yelled as he drove me into the ground, hands as cold and strong as steel gripping my head.

“IT’S YOUR FAULT! IT’S YOUR FAULT! IT’S YOUR MOTHER******* FAULT YOU DIRTY, ROTTEN, PIECE OF-”

“Help me! Help me! Oh my God, somebody help me!” I shrieked as the man in the coat yelled banged my head against the sidewalk.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The man was gone.

I heard someone running up as I coughed and moaned in the rain.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” someone asked.

I managed to pull myself up into a sitting position and looked up. It was a college student, I could tell because of the sorority jacket and the ring on his hand. Typical of a college student, I could smell beer from even this far away.

“Did you see that man?” I asked as he helped me to my feet.

“Man? What man?” the kid asked, looking a little bewildered. “I didn’t see anything, I was just on my way home and all of a sudden I heard-”

His eyes tracked up to my head.

“Oh God, Mister. You need some help.”

“What?” I asked.

He pointed at the window behind me. “Look in the reflection.”

I was about to respond that I couldn’t see the reflection because of the fog and that he was a dumb-ass for saying so, but as I turned I caught a glimpse of myself in the window behind me. The fog was gone now.

“What the hell?” I asked for what had to be the hundredth time today.

“You’re bleeding pretty bad, Mister. Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

I shook my head and craned forwards, looking into the reflection. “No, don’t do that. I’ll be fine. But you’re sure you didn’t see anyone hitting me? Someone in a big black coat?”

“No, sorry.” he apologized. “Look, I‘m gonna call the cops.” the kid said.

I shook my head again. “No, don’t do that. I’ll be fine, really.”

“Well, if you say so.” the kid said. He frowned again and gave me a weird look as he walked away.

I turned away from him and started running for my house.

Jesus, this was crazy. This couldn’t be happening. First the text, then the note on my car, now the mugger. God help me.

I ran the last blocks and huffed and puffed into my yard. My dog had died a few months ago so there was no one to greet me as I unlocked my door and ran into my house. I locked the door and threw the deadbolt shut, which I almost never did. The deadbolt had been Mary’s idea. I didn’t need a deadbolt, but she had insisted I get one.

“Mary.” I muttered again.

I didn’t even take my shoes off as I ran for the bathroom. I didn’t want to get any blood on the floor. I ran into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.

“What-” I asked, in shock.

No blood. Nothing, just my dumbstruck, miserable reflection.

What was happening to me? I had seen the blood. There had been blood on my head. My head had been smashed into the ground by that stranger. I had seen it; I had felt it.

Running my hands through my hair, I checked for injuries. No, there were none. There wasn’t even an egg. I had the god of all headaches, but that might not have been related. How could that be, though? I had seen the blood. I had smelled it.

I shook myself and slopped into the kitchen, still wearing my raincoat and shoes. I got a cup of instant coffee together and added in about two-and-a-half shots of bourbon. Then I booted up my laptop and clicked up Internet Explorer.

Something to relax… this was all going to be fine. It was probably just a prank thrown together by one of my pals who had a sick sense of humor. I just needed to relax. I’d watch some stupid videos on Youtube and relax, I was going to be fine. I was locked safe and sound inside my home where no one could get me.

Youtube came up as normal as it ever did, I didn’t log in but went straight to watching videos.

I clicked up the top video for the day- some kid doing a back flips off a wall- and chewed my lip as it loaded.

“Thank you for DSL.” I muttered.

The video came up and my heart stopped beating. There wasn’t a ninja-kid on the video, it was… it was…

“You killed me, Bill.” Mary said.

But it wasn’t Mary as I had known her. The Mary in this video was mutilated. Her mouth was grossly mashed off in the wrong direction and the whole side of her head was caved in. Her hair that had been so clean and shiny was now matted with blood. It looked like one of her eyes was missing.

“Look what you did to me, Bill.” she declared.

She couldn’t be talking like that, her mouth was too contorted to make comprehensible words. She shouldn't even have been able to move her jaw like that. How could she talk?

“You did this to me, Bill!” she started to yell.

I had to move, but I couldn’t. My legs were gel, my headache was bursting, my blood was ice. The hair on my neck was close to breaking free from my body.

“No! I didn’t.” I yelled back, my voice high and panicked. “You were driving when it happened. I didn’t mean for you to-”

Mary let out a horrible gurgling scream and then she literally reached out from the screen. Her hands, horribly disfigured and crushed came out first on arms that were so mangled with compound fractures they shouldn’t have been able to reach out.

“DIE!” she screamed.

“No!” I yelled, finally overcoming my paralysis and falling backwards out of my seat.

Scrambling frantically, I headed for the door and fumbled with the locks as I tried to get outside. The deadbolt was jammed, it wasn’t going to open. It seemed like Mary’s contribution to my home was going to get me killed.

I looked over my shoulder as the rest of Mary floated free of the screen. One of her legs was missing and the socket was gushing blood over the floor. “IT’S YOUR FAULT!” she shrieked.

Yelling madly, I took a step back and charged through the window on my door. The blood I smelled had to be real this time as the glass shredded my forehead and I fell onto my front porch.

With no time to lose, I bolted for the street. I wasn’t going to let her kill me.

It wasn’t my fault. I had to get away. I couldn’t let her catch me.

Running into the street, I headed for town. Where could I go? The church… The First Church of God was just down the road from me, if I could only make it there. Looking over a shoulder as I headed onto the street, I saw a Mary’s grotesque body float right through my door.

“Oh God, help me!” I screamed as I fled down the sidewalk.

There was an intersection between me and the church, but the light was telling me to “WALK”. I didn’t walk, I ran.

The church wasn’t far away, if only I could make it. I could do this. I was gong to live. God’s house was a place of sanctuary. I would be safe in there. I would be safe in the church.

The last thing I heard was the deafening horn and the crunch of my body against the grill of a Mack Truck.

It happens a hundred times a week: Someone comes up to an intersection and if their light is green, they go on through. There’s not supposed to be anything coming from the sides, their lights are red. Logging trucks can’t stop on a dime though, especially when the road is slick with rain.

As my hearing vanished and feeling left my body, I could just make out Mary‘s final words to me.

“It was your fault.”

There you go. Have a scary Halloween.[url][/url]