Dear Diary

Carrie’s heart raced as she felt her iPhone vibrate in her hand for a second time as the text message came through. She already knew what it had said. She had gotten a glimpse of it as her phone’s facial recognition software confirmed her identity just a few minutes before. It was almost as if Steve Jobs himself was sending her a message from beyond the grave saying I know what you did. It felt like she had been standing in that bathroom stall for ages when a familiar voice rang out from behind the locked stall door. “Carrie?! Your moms called me like three times! If I do not get you home now, we’re both going to be screwed.” It was Hannah, Carrie’s best friend. She was everything Carrie was not. She was tall and lanky but in a sophisticated way with short blonde hair fried from her constant bleaching, and she had stormy grey eyes that suited her wild personality. She was well liked among their peers-but not necessarily popular. Carrie on the other hand was short in stature with long, virgin jet back hair, freckles, and dark brown eyes-perfect for hiding behind her thick purple glasses. She was a wallflower and preferred keeping her distance from those who weren’t Hannah. When Carrie unlocked the stall door Hannah nearly yanked her arm out of its socket as she dragged her through the mall bathroom doors to the bustling storefronts. It was a busy Saturday afternoon, and no one seemed to notice the tears welling up in Carrie’s eyes-not even Hannah as she pushed her way through the mob of shoppers like an NFL linebacker. Before she knew it, Carrie was sitting in the passenger seat of Hannah’s 2008 Honda Civic as they flew down the side streets of their hometown of Clover, Illinois. Still numb from the unopened message on her phone Carrie barely registered Hannah screeching from the driver’s seat about how she needed to get her home before her mom calls the police on her. It was not that Carrie’s mom was unreasonable…she was protective. Ever since the disappearance of her twin sister back in September, Carrie’s mom was understandably on edge about her remaining daughter’s constant whereabouts. It usually made Carrie feel guilty whenever she cut it close to curfew or neglected to call her mother when plans changed. However, in this moment, Carrie could not muster enough energy to care. All she cared about were the six little words with big meaning plastered on her phone screen.

           Within minutes Hannah pulled into Carrie’s driveway. Carrie blinked the remaining tears from her eyes and told herself to get a grip. She had to remain composed in front of her mom. Hannah, finally calm from her brief stunt as a race car driver, noticed Carrie’s demeanor and reached out to squeeze her hand before saying, “Tell your mom I said hi and text me when you’re inside, okay?” Carrie rolled her eyes and said, “You know you can still come inside right? Just because Charlotte is gone doesn’t mean you’ll get kidnapped from crossing the threshold.” From the storm building inside Hannah’s eyes Carrie knew she had gone too far. Hannah threw her head back to land on the headrest and closed her eyes while muttering, “I’ll pick you up before school on Monday.” She had the car in reverse before Carrie could even step out of it. Carrie almost wished that Hannah had yelled at her. She felt like everyone, including her best friend was walking on eggshells around her since Charlotte went missing. Was it wrong of her to want everything to go back to normal-even with Charlotte gone? Thinking back on the text message she knew that it was just a fever dream.

           The house was eerily quiet. Even more so than it had been recently. A cardboard box filled with leftover candles from Charlotte’s vigil was still in the corner by the front door. Carrie nudged it with her foot so that it sat even deeper in the shadows before throwing her shoes to the opposite corner. “Mom?” Carrie called out into the dark house. It was three in the afternoon but with all the lights out it felt even later. Carrie ventured into the living room to find her mother sitting on the floor with pictures sprawled out in front of her. “Carrie! You’re home! I am so glad. Now you can help me with my project!” Carrie shuffled forward and peered over her mothers’ shoulder to see a pair of scissors and pictures of Charlotte and herself laid out in front of her. “Um. Mom what’s going on?” Carrie asked reluctantly. “Oh honey, I’m making a collage of Charlotte and you! I thought it would be nice to hang up in your girl’s bedroom for when she gets back.” Carrie winced and felt her stomach churn as she mustered out, “How nice.” Before turning on her heel and walking up the stairs to her bedroom, she looked at her mother. From the top of her head she could see the gray hairs sticking out more prominently than her black ones and the bags beneath her eyes seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. Carrie sighed and began her ascent up the stairs.

 After locking her door, she flopped onto her bedroom floor and looked over at Charlotte’s unmade bed, untouched from the night she disappeared. Carrie replayed the night over in her head for what seemed like the hundredth time. It made no sense. She never heard anyone come or go and yet the window was wide open the next morning and Charlotte was gone. At first everyone thought that she had just ran away. After all, their father had just died, and Charlotte was not taking it very well. None of them were. But then after 48 hours the police and her mother were convinced that this was no angsty teen runaway situation. They found the old beat-up Chevy they shared alongside the Wawakee Lake just 10 minutes from the house. They found her wallet, phone, and her keys left in the ignition. There was blood on the seats. Charlotte’s blood. But no Charlotte. Nothing added up.

It had been six months since Charlotte’s disappearance and still the police had nothing. Charlotte was popular among her peers. She was a straight A student, homecoming queen, and star tennis player. The police had no leads on who would want to harm someone so beloved. Her belongings from that night were now in a clear zip locked bag on Charlotte’s nightstand. Carrie’s mom had brought up the idea of her sleeping in the guest room, but she refused. It was her room too and she did not want to leave it. It was in this room where she wrote in her diary every night while her parents fought downstairs, it was in this room she cried when her childhood crush, Bryan O’Neil danced with Charlotte instead of her at the winter formal, it was this room where just two weeks ago she received an email about her acceptance into her dream school, it was her room too.  

Carrie had been so lost in her own thoughts that she had almost forgotten about the text message from the mall. Frantically she ran to her nightstand, pulled out her diary and flipped to the entry marked: September 27^th, 2019. Shaking, she read the words she had written to herself:

It makes no sense. No one could hear anyone coming in or out of the window. Charlotte does it all the time to see Bryan. Ever since dad died, I want to run away. I know mom did it and I bet Charlotte knew. They don’t seem too broken up about it. Anyways, it has been two days, but they finally found the car. The police suspect foul play. If she wouldn’t have struggled so much there would not have been any blood. The lake will freeze over any day now. I’m not worried. I lost my favorite parent, so it’s only fair mom loses her favorite child. Right? Nothing adds up so I’m not worried. Diary, can you keep a secret?

Carrie slammed her diary shut and finally pulled out her phone. Her heart raced as she read the six little words on her screen.

Carrie, can you keep a secret?