The Regretted Promise

I made a mistake. A really big mistake. A promise I regret. I made an innocent promise, that I had no way of knowing would come back to haunt me later. 

To say Alice and I were best friends is an understatement. We were inseparable. We were practically sisters, from two different worlds. 

It began in second grade, when she transferred schools. I still remember what she looked like that day, a skinny toothpick, knobbly joints, ripped jeans, and a dingy flannel shirt. She had knotted, brown, short hair. But still, she wore a sneaky, sweet little grin. She wore her smile proudly as the teacher introduced her to the class. I was intrigued by her. Who was this new girl? 

As class began, I was seated next to her. We were working on an extremely dull math assignment, just repetitive addition and subtraction problems, as the teacher resigned herself to her desk, steering clear from our senseless questions. She made it clear she did not want to be bothered.

“Hey...what’s your name?” Alice asked before I had a chance to ask her a question first. I was supposed to be the daredevil child, and here she was, the new kid, talking to me first!

“Maddie,” I said confidently, lifting my pointed chin up high.

The other child sitting next to us, a whiny little boy, whom I absolutely despised, immediately spoke snarky comments.

“Why are your clothes and hair so messy? You look homeless," he spat, his hateful comments changing the mood. Alice only bared her teeth like an animal in response, a silly, intimidating gesture to the annoying boy. The sensitive boy immediately ran off screaming to the teacher. I rolled my eyes. 

“He is such a baby, don’t listen to him,” I said, trying to comfort her.

 Apparently, she did not need the reassuring comments. Instead, she reached into her ratted backpack, and pulled something out, her fist closed around it. What was she holding? Opening her fist, she revealed black spiders. I jumped back, with my jaw dropped. She was holding spiders! Then, she started laughing! She was laughing at me! And then I realized, they were fake! I laughed with her.

“I think we should put them on his paper,” she said, nodding to the space where the boy once occupied. It was a terrific prank.

From that day on, we became the best of friends. She understood me, and I understood her. It didn’t matter her clothes were a mess, or some days she played hooky, we stuck together like glue. The little devils, they called us. We played numerous pranks on the students and teachers, each one more hilarious than the last. But, underneath all her delinquent behavior, was a heart of gold. She was always kind, loving, caring, and sympathetic.

Every year we grew closer, and I learned more about her depressing life. To say the least, she never let me come over to her house, and I understood why. Instead, she came over to mine, all the time. Every birthday, we celebrated with a spectacular prank and a sleepover at my house. We did this for both of our birthdays. 

When Alice turned eight, she did not have a birthday party. She told me, she couldn’t. She told me, some of the secrets of her life. The deep, dark, scary ones that kept me awake in my bed at night. So, that is where the tradition of our birthdays began, the times we spent together, always avoiding her house.

The night she turned eight, when we were in our sleeping bags in the tent in my yard, I made the promise.

“Alice, I promise to always, always, spend your birthdays with you. You will never be alone on your birthday,” I declared, my hand over my heart.

“You promise?” She questioned, her giant doe eyes illuminated by the lantern in the cramped tent. 

“I promise.” And, I meant it. 

We spent every, single, birthday together. We shared the highs and lows of our life, and she concealed the worst of hers from me. I think she tried to protect me from the truth, but I wasn't there to protect her when she needed me most.

The incident occured on a random night when I was twelve years old, I had a friend over for a sleepover. For once, it was not Alice. I wanted to enjoy that night, hanging out with a different friend. I loved Alice, but sometimes I just needed my space. Looking back, I realize how selfish I was, blind to the dangerous situation she was in. 

She called me that night.

“Hey Maddie, can I come over tonight? I need to get away from home.”

“Umm...sorry. I really can’t tonight. I’m super busy. Tomorrow maybe?” I knew why she needed to come over. I was in denial, only concerned about myself. Long story short, Alice never came over that night, or any night after. She never came over again.

 Perhaps a clarification is needed. This is what happened to Alice: It was late at night, and Alice's drunk mother was driving while Alice was in the car. Where they were driving to, or why, was not clear. The car crashed. The neglectful, abusive mother lived. Mischievous, daring, Alice, died. And it was my fault.

I spiraled, mourning her loss. A light which once burned bright, disappeared. Alice was gone. She would never see the world again. We would never get to pull another prank, or spend another birthday together. Or, so I thought. 

I didn’t go to her funeral. I couldn’t take the thought of seeing her bouncing body lifeless, in a coffin. I couldn’t take the thought of seeing her blank expression, when usually she was so full of life. I just could not bear the thought of seeing her differently from how I knew her. Life continued, and mine was racked with guilt. Everything continued as normally as possible, up until what would have been a week before her birthday. Then, strange things began to occur. Inexplicable, mysterious events.

It started with a text. A text, from the number she once had. The phone number was supposed to be disconnected. Breaking into a cold sweat, I re read that single text a thousand times. 

It read: Don’t forget to come for my birthday. This year, you can come to my home. You know where to look. 

It was a prank. It had to be, right? These days, anyone could hack technology and do something like that, right? 

I showed my parents the text. They said they couldn’t see it. Right at that moment, I knew Alice had come back to haunt me. 

From there, the paranormal events only increased. I constantly heard her voice, eerie and wispy, right in my ear. I could practically feel her breath. 

“You always promised to come for my birthday, Maddie. You promised. You have to come for my birthday, Maddie. You promised. You don’t want to know what will happen if you break your promise.” 

My parents never heard a thing. Nobody did. It was just Alice and I, her voice calling my name. I nearly went insane, that week. Nobody believed me, and my parents made an appointment for a phyciatrist. 

I tried talking to her, sobbing as I spoke. She never answered me directly, only repeating the same sentences over, and over again. 

I knew what I had to do. The thoughts of what I would have to do consumed me. Those few days before her birthday, sleep was nonexistent for me. I had to do it. 

I snuck out of the house at midnight, flashlight in one hand, leaping through my low bedroom window. I knew where the graveyard was, and I knew where to look, just like she said. I scurried throughout the neighborhood, careful to avoid people. The moon’s sorrowful, radiant face, and the thousands of bright stars illuminated the sky. Alice would have loved to see this. Maybe, she could see this. 

Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I continued my few miles to the graveyard. I didn’t know what would await me. I didn’t know what to expect. I was petrified, but I knew I had to keep walking. One foot in front of the other. Was she going to kill me? Get her revenge for my neglectfulness that night? She had tortured me enough already, I was ready for it to be over. If the only way out of the haunting was death, so be it.     

Headstones. I could see the various shapes of the headstones in the creepy graveyard. With a heavy heart, I continued to walk, as penance for my past actions. 

A tall, twisty, iron gate stood, guarding the entrance to the graveyard, locked. I simply climbed it, ignoring the sharp metal, piercing my skin. Leaping from the top of the gate, I landed on the hard Earth with a thud, breaking the silence. Anxiety pumped throughout my body, leaving me breathless and feeling faint. Shining my flashlight onto the headstones, I navigated the bone-chilling graveyard, careful to step quietly. 

Then, I come across the headstone. Her full name and dates are engraved into the stone. At only twelve years old, Alice, died. I fell to my knees, burying my face in my hands.

“Alice! I’m so sorry I pushed you away that night! I am here now, you can kill me if you want. I came for your birthday, just like I promised,” I sobbed into my hands.

“So, you did come for my birthday after all.”

I look up immediately, lifting my hands from my cold and wet face. There Alice stands, on top of the spot where she was buried. I was relieved to discover she did not look any different from how I last saw her. No, she was not bloody or bruised, just plain Alice. Her hair was wild as usual, and her clothes had several holes in them. But, there she was. She seemed so...real. So tangible, but she was a ghost. Just a ghost.

“You’re still my best friend, Alice. I will always come for your birthday.” 

“You’re still my best friend too, but you left me when I needed you most.”

“I know! I’m so, so sorry. You deserved to live so much longer.”

“I know I did. I should have lived.” My heart beat faster. This was it. 

“Why did you want me here?”

“Because, you made the promise to always visit me on my birthday, Maddie. And now, I want to free you of the curse. Now, you won't have to visit me anymore. It won’t be so difficult for you.” Then, she picked up a nearby shovel I didn’t notice before. 

“Please, Alice, please! I am sorry! Why did you have to haunt me, Alice. You made me go insane and miserable.”

“I made your life miserable?” She started to scream, and her face turned red, “I was your best friend! And I’m making life miserable for you? You have no idea what misery feels like, no idea. You had no idea what my life was like.” She held the shovel like a bat, ready to swing down any moment.

“You shall now be free of your promise!” She swung the shovel down, hard, onto my skull, relishing every moment. 

I collapsed into a heap. Then, everything went dark.

I awoke to a woman in a uniform touching my shoulder.

“Oh my god. What are you doing here? Your parents have been searching for you all over town.” A police officer, I realized.

“Wait, I’m not dead?” 

“Quite the opposite. What were you doing out here? Are you hurt?” The police officer asked. I couldn’t think. What happened? Didn’t Alice kill me? I snuck a glance at her burial spot. No shovel.

“The shovel-” I gasped.

“What is it?” I couldn’t tell her what I saw, or my best friend was haunting me. No one would ever believe me. People thought I’m crazy enough already. But what happened? My sense started to come back to me, and pain throbbed through my body. But, not my head. I touched my head, surprised to find it still intact. But, I had wounds from climbing the gate. Red, angry, bloody wounds. 

“I’m not-” the words refused to come from my mouth. The police officer persisted with her concerning questions, and helped me up. I answered as best as I could. She made a few calls, and the next thing I knew, my parents were bounding from there cars, sobbing with joy to be reunited with their daughter. I stood frozen and still like a statue. Many things happened after that, none of them important, including quite a few appointments with many people once I told my parents why I went to the graveyard at midnight.

But, I knew one thing for sure. Alice stopped haunting me. For some reason, she broke the “promise” or curse to set me free. Would I have been forced to visit her if she hadn't? I knew nothing of the rules of the dead, and promises between the living. What happens if a promise is not kept in the realm of the spirits? I had no way of getting these answers, so all that mattered was that she did it for me. I thought she intended to kill me in some way, but she saved me. From that day on, I never heard her voice again, or was reminded of my annual promise.

I was free. 

I