My name is Sully. I’m 24 years old and I live in Arizona. I grew up in a small town called Bisbee with my mother and best friend, Ben. His name was Benjamin but he hated being called that. Ben and I were the same age, although I was four months older. We were best friends since kindergarten. Ben lived with his mother, Karen. He died a few years ago. People say I’m crazy when I tell them about it so I just keep it to myself now, but lately I’ve been really down in the dumps so I need to write my story down for one last venting.
Ben worked night shift at the Town Mall. He hated his job but he said his pitiful paycheck did pay the rent and supply food for him and his mother. It was a Friday night when he received the phone call from a neighbor saying his house was on fire. He rushed home and called me on the way there. We were supposed to go to the bar that night so I was still awake waiting for his call, but it wasn’t the call I was expecting.
I rushed to his house to see it engulfed in flames. There were two fire trucks, an ambulance and two police cars. I got out my car and ran to Ben, who was standing beside his car crying. He asked me if I had seen his mother and I told him no, I just got there. We stood by his car for about an hour until the flames were extinguished. A police officer came up to us and told Ben that there were no survivors. The cause of the fire is still unknown.
Ben moved in with his girlfriend, Tori. We still talked over the phone, but it was maybe once or twice a week. Ben became distant from everyone. When we did talk, he told me that he had got a new job that he enjoyed and he and Tori were getting married the next year. We made plans to meet at McDonald’s to catch up and talk. We talked about positive things in our life and shared some good laughs. After a while, his smile faded and he told me he had something bothering him. He told me that Tori’s house was haunted. I laughed thinking he was joking like Ben would do sometimes, but he didn’t laugh with me. He proceeded to tell me that he thinks that the ghost is his mother and he only sees her reflection in a mirror in his bedroom. It freaked me out, but for his sake, I told him he was imagining it and he should quit stressing so much.
A week went by with no word from him, which was odd. I tried calling but it always went to his voicemail. He finally called one late night. I almost didn’t answer because I had work the next morning and I was still upset with him for ignoring me. I hesitated for a few rings and answered. He was out of breath and was talking fast. I told him to slow down and breathe but the phone went dead. All I understood him say was, “She’s not in the mirror anymore, she’s here!” I got dressed and sped to his house.
When I arrived, my heart dropped. There were police cars, an ambulance and a black SUV. I ran to his front door but a police officer grabbed my arm. He asked if I knew the residents. I told him that I was Ben’s best friend and I needed to see him. He told me that Ben committed suicide and no one was allowed in the house. I went home and cried. I felt heartbroken, angry and confused. I tried calling Tori to check on her a few times but she never would answer. I found out later that she had moved in with her aunt the next day. I still wish I would’ve talked to her. As Ben’s best friend, I felt as if it was my job to protect her after his passing and be there for her.
She killed herself a few day later. I felt like I had to do something. Something wasn’t right. I packed a bookbag with a flashlight, some batteries and some gloves. I went to Ben and Tori’s old house. I knew something in that house could give me some answers. I went to his back door and got the spare key hidden under the rug. The house was trashed. I guess the cops thought they would look for clues, too. All of their stuff was still there. There was furniture, a television, dog toys on the floor, kitchen appliances and just about everything you would see in a house. I went to their bedroom. I immediately felt a cold chill run across the back of my neck. I shook it off and told myself to keep it moving… For Ben and Tori…
Clothes were scattered across the floor, including Ben’s high school jersey. I put it in my bag for memory sakes. The dresser was turned over, a chair was torn apart leaving shreds of cotton on the floor, and there was a video camera on the floor near the closet. I walked towards the camera and stepped in a puddle of almost dried blood. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and reminded myself to keep it moving. I picked up the camera and noticed a tape still inside. I was afraid to take it home and watch it but maybe this was a clue to Ben’s death. I put it in my bag and heard dogs barking somewhere outside. I quickly scrambled to the back door and went home.
When I got home, I looked for and found my old video camera to watch the video. The video showed that Ben had been recording the bedroom at night when they both went to bed. I almost turned it off thinking it was something I shouldn’t be watching but wouldn’t they leave the lights on? The only light in the video was from the camera being a night vision camera. I continued watching. I fast forwarded through the silence of their sleeping. I saw something move and I hit play. The mirror on the wall by the dresser fell. Tori woke up in a panic and Ben soothed her. He put the unbroken mirror back on the wall and they went back to sleep.
The next three nights were about the same. The mirror would fall off the wall, Ben would put it back and get back in bed. The fourth night was different. Ben got out of bed and went around the bed to stand over Tori. He stared at her for eight minutes, according to the time on the video. He picked her up and threw her against the wall by the dresser, knocking the mirror off the wall. This time, the mirror shattered. Tori laid there unconscious for the rest of the video. Ben walked out of the room for about ten minutes and walked back in with something in his hand. It looked like a screwdriver. He slowly walked towards the camera. I could feel my chest pounding. He stared into the camera lens for a few seconds before stabbing himself in the chest with the tool. After a few moments, he fell onto the floor, knocking the camera over with him.
I turned my camera to see the crooked video better. A lady walked into the room. Her hair was dark and stringy, her eyes looked tired and baggy, and she was very pale. Her neck started twitching very unhuman like. As she walked towards the camera, her legs were twitching. She got on her knees and started crawling to the camera on the floor. The closer she got, the better I could see her face. She was Ben’s mother. I threw my camera in horror and cried. A few days later, I took the tape to the police station. They called me the same day telling me that the tape would not play. It has been three years since Ben’s death and I’m still here waiting for him to visit me in person. I don’t think he likes the mirrors in my house because he always looks angry.
