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NICK (4:41 pm): I mean INDIVIDUALS OF VARIOUS GENDER IDENTITIES.

MEL (4:44 pm): Don’t bother. I’m not going. BECAUSE NONE OF IT IS REAL. Becca’s gone. She’s dead or she’s shooting up in a flophouse or whatever, but she’s not in the woods and she’s not the prisoner of some stupid ghost from an old urban legend. You’re all delusional if you think she is for even a moment. You should do yourselves a favor and admit that so you can move on.

TRINA (4:45 pm): See you guys tonight?

ANTHONY (4:46 pm): Yeah. See you.

NICK (4:46 pm): I’ll be there. Ciao, bitches.

PRIVATE MESSAGE: ANTHONY/TRINA

ANTHONY (4:47 pm): Trina, what did you need to talk about?

TRINA (4:47 pm): I

TRINA (4:47 pm): Fuck I really don’t know how to say this

ANTHONY (4:48 pm): Are you okay? What’s going on?

TRINA (4:48 pm): I found out something and I don’t really know what to do

ANTHONY (4:49 pm): Do you want to call? Or come over?

TRINA (4:49 pm): No. I don’t know.

TRINA (4:50 pm): I have to go

ANTHONY (4:51 pm): Wait

TRINA (4:52 pm): I have to go. Chris*is home.

4

WHAT DO YOUwear when you go to meet a ghost? What do you bring?

Every time I went into the woods before, I didn’t bring anything more than a flashlight or a granola bar. I never had any hope of finding a sign of Becca. It was more about getting away from home, from town, from every other living soul. I never thought about what would happen if it was all real. If there was a road to walk down. Rationally, I still don’t believe in ghosts, in roads that vanish. But I’ve begun to operate as if it is true, and that is close enough to believing.

In the end I dress warmly, with layers, and pack a lunch box, some water bottles, and a bunch of protein bars. I bring along my heaviest flashlight and extra batteries, Becca’s camera, a change of clothes, and the notebook. And, of course, a key. I wait until I’m sure my mom is asleep, leave the note I’ve written on the kitchen table, and walk out.

If I vanish, I want her to know exactly why. Not like with Becca. Maybe it’ll help. Maybe it won’t. But at least she’ll know why I’ve gone.

The duffel bag digs into my shoulder as I beeline for theforest. It’s a cold night, though at least it isn’t raining anymore. The sidewalk gleams under the streetlamps, and I think of black ice, surfaces that look solid until they plunge you into the depths. You could fall forever through darkness like that.

My phone buzzes with a message notification. I hold it facedown for a moment, convinced it’s Anthony telling me he’s staying home, destroying my chance at this before I even get to the woods. I flip the phone over in my hand and thumb the button to bring the screen to life. And nearly drop it.

One message, it says. From Becca.

I unlock the phone with shaking hands. And stare. The message is from a year ago.

Hey. Going to be out late. Don’t worry. See you soon.

She sent that a few days before she disappeared, some night she was out with Zach. Why am I getting a notification for it now?