After finding a stranger’s severed finger in one of my father’s keepsakes, I decided I had to investigate further.
I couldn’t believe what he held in his hand.
I couldn’t take the calls any more. I just couldn’t take knowing. There was nothing I could do to stop them from coming through; I had to put an end to it.
I should have been terrified…angry…sad…but…I felt strangely calm.
The first time I saw it, it was sitting near my bathtub, encircled by a crown of melted wax.
When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime.
I stood motionless in front of the fog-coated door while my brain tried to process what I was seeing.
This is going to sound like farce, but ever since I suffered a concussion last summer, I’ve been hearing a live studio audience around me 24/7. The doctors reassured me they were merely auditory hallucinations brought on by the bump to my noggin, and that they’d eventually go away on their own once my brain healed. It was actually kind of funny at first….