I’ve stumbled into a bit of a problem and I’m told you’re the best person to ask. Oh, come on, don’t give me that look. You’ve come home from a long day of work and just expected to relax, haven’t you? That was your first mistake. Always prepare for the unexpected. You never know if a man down on his luck might just send you a text begging for help. Look, I know you’re probably thinking, why should you help me? Here’s a couple of reasons I’ve come up with on a whim.

1. You’re a good person. (You did after all help Stacy from her unfortunate situation.)

2. I’ll pay you. (Yes, I’m not swimming in money but I’ll give you everything I have if you can fix this. Everything.)

These are all the reasons I’ve come up with so far but I’m sure there are many more. Trust me, it’ll be worth helping me although I should probably tell you what exactly my problem is. I made a deal with a witch, not just any witch either. The witch. You know, the one that turned your co-worker, Jeffery into a rhinoceros salmon hybrid. I know what you’re thinking, after that website you made with all those warnings who would be stupid enough to make a deal with a witch?

I was desperate and hopeless. She gave it to me in a box, so why wouldn’t I take it? If I gave her a piece of myself, she’d help me bring back my father. It’s funny when he was alive I never wanted to be around him. His words were too harsh and I was never going to be good enough but after he died…it just felt like there were too many unsaid things. I don’t like lack of closure, it’s a flaw she took advantage of. She asked for something easy at first, a clip of a fingernail. I gave it to her and she gave me three seconds with his corpse. Oh, did I forget to mention I dug my father up and brought him to her? The three seconds wasn’t enough so I asked for more time but more time required a greater pay and the second payment seemed easy, one whole fingernail and a vial full of my spit. Now, was both things gross to give…yes but I gave it for the sake of closure.

The second time, my dad revived, it lasted six seconds. It wasn’t enough time to say what I needed to say and she required more payment telling me spells like these require so much power I should be happy she’s asked for so little. Foolishly, I asked her what I could give to give me the time I needed. I estimated it’d take at least five minutes to speak my peace. She looked me over, accessing what she could take. Minutes later, she had chosen her price, an ear, a hand, and a foot.

“Those could get you five minutes,” she said and I contemplated her price.

I should’ve refused but I was determined to get closure so when she produced a glowing piece of paper that required a bloody thumbprint I agreed not thinking much of the after. After she took her payment, I was bandaged and bleeding but my father was more animated than before. Or at least as animated as an emotionally distant man could be. He judged my new appearance and complained about the dingy environment I had transported him to.

“Dead man stay in the dirt, Charles!” He shouted as I tried to unpack the harm his lack of support in life inflicted upon me.

“Dad, I’m trying to unload here,” I said to him, earning a disapproving glare.

Eventually with all his grumbling, the time I paid for was gone and he once again went slack with the door between us still wide open.

The witch tsked as she judged the interaction. “I could make him more open and honest…let you have the version of him you always wanted.”

“How?”

My dad was never upfront about his feelings. It was always a scream here, a belittling comment there, but never an “I love you son.”

“It’ll be costly but it’ll be worth it, don’t you think?”

There was a glint in her eye and foolishly I contemplated it. It was either I pay for this or go to weekly therapy to unpack my deep-rooted issues that stem from my father. God, why didn’t I just listen to a podcast or start my own like a normal man?

“Alright, I’ll take it no matter the cost,” I said like a fool.

She smirked and then poofed a couple of addendums to our initial agreement. She kept emphasizing how I had no need to sign again as she added her new prices to our agreement. The third price was this: one eye, one leg, and a kidney. When I heard her new price, I put a protective hand over my body.

“A kidney?”

She shrugged. “Most witches ask for a heart but I’ve found you can never have enough kidneys.”

“Reasonable.” I nodded with a grimace. “I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?”

I looked at my signed contract warily. “Alright, let’s get it over with.”

So she removed my payments once again, and the conversation with my dad went better than before but just as I finished talking about the time he belittled my feelings when I chose to move away…he went slack again.

The old witch tsked again. “Just when you were getting somewhere.”

“Is there a way to get more time?”

She contemplated my question. “It’ll be a steep price. A hefty price, dear.”

“Anything, I’ll give anything! I still need to tell my dad how I feel about him mocking my tears when I cried at Grandma’s funeral.”

The witch sighed. “Well…I guess I could change the contract once more.”

She did so and I waited for her to tell me her price. This time it was my whole body and she pulled my soul out of it and placed it inside a wonky tablet full of a lot of malware I might add. I talked to my dad via the tablet but once my time was over and I got the closure I needed. I then realized…I had nowhere to go…no direction forward because my body was well gone. For the past couple of days, I tried to accept my fate but I remembered you and your warnings. Look, I know I did this to myself but could you please consider helping me out? If so, I’ve sent an email that I’ve attached myself to, just download me and maybe we could figure out a plan or something. If not, I’ve attached a link you should click in this text with a detailed explanation of why you should help me.

Warning: the attached link contains malware