If you’re reading this right now, you might want to brace yourself, because what you’re about to read about is highly regarded as strange and paranormal. Please don’t judge me, please don’t hate me after you read this.

It all started when I was walking home, alone, at night. I had just gotten out of the senior prom and was a little head-over-heels still, with my dress all messy and my hair falling out of its bun. The skies were thundering and a figure appeared in front of me. I couldn’t see its face but it was very, very pale.

For a moment I thought I was just exhausted and delirious and I needed to go to sleep, but then it started to stalk me. All. The. Way. Home.

I ran the rest of the way, scared to death, clanking loudly in my too-small heels. Right now I’m writing this as I’m hidden in my closet, lights off, barely breathing, still smelly from a mixture of spilled fruit punch to boy’s body spray rubbing off on me to my own smeared makeup and worn-off deodorant. I’m scared, so if you’re reading, please help me!

‘Oh Margaret!’

I freeze. How does it know my name? It sounds like my dad… but he’s not home. He’s… dead, he died in a car accident years ago… I peek out the door to see if he’s there and…

‘Hello. How nice to finally see you again.’

It’s my dead dad’s face staring right back at me.

(Also the title of this is one of my favorite Carrie Underwood, so be sure to check that out if you’re a fan of country music! 😁🎵)