Dear Diary

Writing Prompt #1

I felt creative, but not enough to write a full story. (Plus I might be procrastinating on doing my homework) I let myself write for about 15 minutes, then I proofread it and publish it.

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*A girl goes missing. Fifteen years later her parents get a phone call from her older self. But they listen in fear because they killed their daughter that dark night years ago.* 

Mr. Johnathon Romm and Mrs. Deborah Romm always were the sweetest people in the peaceful neighborhood. Their house was on the corner of the street, the first house to be seen when entering the new neighborhood. The Romm family was almost picturesque. Their daughter Riley, was a gifted young girl. She was sweet and caring towards all those around her. Mr. and Mrs. Romm seemed to adore their little girl. They could never lay a hand on their precious gift of a daughter. 

At least it seemed that way.

Tragedy struck the small family when their baby girl didn't come home one day. She was not seen by the neighbors, she did not attend school, and she had not joined the junior decathlon team after school. She just disappeared. 

Johnathon and Deborah were absolutely devastated. They exhausted every source they could. Search parties were sent out, the police filed a missing persons case, the neighbors even went out themselves to help find the small child. Their little girl could not be found. A few months after her disappearance, the police declared the child dead. Her empty grave was that of an angel crying and was never visited without being decorated with toys and vivid flowers.

Fifteen years had passed since the girl's disappearance. The Romm's had slowly integrated themselves into a normal life. Deborah refused to have any other children and Johnathon buried himself in his work.

It was a clear May morning. The sun was rising, the birds were chirping, and people were just starting to rise from their slumber. The morning had started out like any other for Deborah. She made breakfast for her husband. It was always the same thing, pancakes and sausages. After her husband drove off to work, she got dressed herself and headed to the grocers. 

Today was slightly different. As Deborah grabbed her grocery list and headed out the door, a plastic bag hung from the door handle. Deborah opened the bag. A note and torn bundle of clothing were the only item inside. Intrigued, the woman paused her shopping day and retreated back inside. 

She took a seat in the living room, holding the freshly pressed paper in her well manicured hands. It was sealed with the Romm's address in the center, but there were no stamps nor a return address. The letter appeared to be written in shiny, pink ink. The words were in clear, neat cursive. There were no signs of a mistake, fold, or wrinkle on the paper.

"Did you really think you could get rid of me that easily?

Honestly, I thought you would have tried harder. I'm quite disappointed in the both of you. You could have made sure I stayed dead. Heck, even checked up on my body every once and a while. But no, you continued to play the part of the devastated parent. Parading your grief around like you truly believed I was gone. Pathetic. 

If you want the truth to stay hidden, come to the grave. You know which one. I'll be waiting."

As Deborah finished the letter, her breathing picked up. Her chest heaved, her face paled, and her eyes widened in fear. If she was correct, Riley was alive. 

The little girl that had walked through the halls spreading happiness and joy out as if they were fresh baked cookies. The small child who never seemed to frown or cry. The same baby girl that caused Deborah's jealousy grow through the years. 

She could still see her baby's bright blue eyes alight with curiosity and wonder. The soft thumping of her shoes hitting the floor as she zoomed through the house, squealing loudly as she played. Deborah's mind raced as she remembered the girl growing up through the years. The last time she had seen her daughter was at her decathlon meet at the local middle school. Although Riley was growing, she continued to wear her favorite colors; neon pink and pastel green.  

It was Deborah's jealousy that drove her mad. She did not enjoy having a daughter. It was annoying and unrewarding. The world saw a sweet little girl with potential, Deborah only saw a vacuum sucking up her time, money, and happiness. 

Deborah came to despise her child, to the point of taking her out.

Unfortunately, there was some tiny sliver of her mind that refused to bring harm to the little girl. It was something that Deborah found most annoying. That sliver of decency kept her from distributing abuse upon the child. Instead of causing harm herself, she put it upon some lowlife group of junkies. 

After the decathlon meet, Deborah and her husband waited by their car. Jonathon searched for their little girl, awaiting her small figure to come bouncing towards them. 

She never came.

Instead, she was snatched from the meet and taken care of.

Apparently, they did not take care of her like Deborah would have liked. Apparently, they let her live.

Leaving a grown Riley pissed and out for blood.

Deborah reached her hand into the plastic bag, grabbing an old, crusty cloth. She pulled it out and held it to the light. It was the play dress Riley wore at her meet the night of her disappearance. The dress was covered in soil, the skirt torn, and the color was no longer the neon pink it first was. At a closer look, there were old, brown stains in the dress. 

Sewed into the stained cloth were the words, 

"I'm coming"

*okay, so I took some liberties with this prompt, but it was still fun!*