“If there’s really a ghost here, it should be able to turn the flash light on,” I said.
Before I could go forward with the experiment, a male voice whispered in my right ear, “Sherry,”
This kind of thing happens to me now and again where something or someone from the other side uses me to relay a message to the living. In this case, it was someone on my tour.
“Anyone here named Sherry?” I asked.
A woman a little older than I was, raised her hand, “I’m Sherry,”
The male voice whispered again, “I’m Mitch, tell her it was never her fault. It was my fault, I was selfish and stupid,”
I did exactly as the voice told me,
“Sherry, Mitch says it was never your fault. It was his, he was selfish and stupid,” I repeated the instructions.
The woman Sherry lost it, she sobbed uncontrollably and I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do, her friends surrounded her and comforted her. All I could do was tell everyone that the tour was over, after which we all walked back to the bus. I offered my good-byes and got in my car and drove off. Later that night my phone rang; I already had a feeling about who it was,
“Hello?”
“Hi, this is Sherry from the tour earlier?” Thank goodness she wasn’t still crying.
“Hi, I’m sorry but I was only relaying the message that was given to me. I never got to explain myself,” I began, but Sherry wouldn’t let me continue.
“None of what happened tonight was your fault. Mitch was my boyfriend in high school many, many years ago. We’d been together since our freshman year but things started to change when we were seniors. Mitch’s parents were getting a divorce and he started to get more needy and more jealous. I couldn’t count how many times we argued over the silliest things. We always met in front of my homeroom every morning which was on the third floor, but one morning he was already there. I walked up to him and he gave me a long hug and a kiss, then he looked at me and said,
“This is your fault,”
Right then, he jumped to his death from the third floor,” she said.
“Oh god,” I replied. “I’m so sorry to hear that, I didn’t know,”
“No,” she reassured me. “It’s a good thing. You see, I’ve been carrying that with me from 1977 until now. It’s surfaced more in the last ten years and it became obvious to my husband. Before I came on your tour tonight, my husband gave me the option of putting Mitch’s suicide behind me once and for all or he was going to give me a divorce. I guess you could say that you saved my marriage,” she said.
“Wasn’t me,” I told her. “It was Mitch, he gave you what you needed,”
“I didn’t think about it that way,” she replied. “You’re right.”
“There is one thing though, if he died at your high school, why did he come through at triangle park?” I asked.
“Triangle Park was our place, it was our getaway, where we could be ourselves,” she was crying now.
“We hung out in the very same spot where you had us sit earlier,”
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