I am not ready to complete my ghost story, as these bones need time to rest, and come up with the right wording. The wind is howling a great deal t night, or are those the screams of the lost souls!?
Justin Timberlake the storyteller has told me his tale numerous time, and each time it seems creepier. The kid may have been a straight "A" student, and had a passion for finding the dirt, but he never could seem to pull it off, that's why I am believing his tales, but you can be your own judge.
Justin no longer lives here, as he told me he needed to get away from the painful memories. He disappeared shortly after the deaths were resolved, as he put it, "It was too much for him to handle." He comes back, but only for short stays, reunions and such.
Waking in the middle of the night, Justin calls me for comfort, and somebody to confide in. His voice is shaky, as he explains to me what happened years earlier.
Gasping for air, he lets out a heavy sigh, "Everything is not fixed, though the tragedies have stopped," and then the phone goes dead.
Now see, I've been rambling giving you bits and pieces, but I really cannot go on. I will tell you eventually, but for now, I need to think things through. I may just be a voice in her head, but you know even us voices mess up.
copyright 2005 Evans R.
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