(07/05/12)
“We’ll be back in a couple hours, OK? Bye!” My mom said as she hurriedly stepped out the door.
“OK. Bye mom. Bye dad,” I sighed.
I watched as their car drove down the street and into the brightly lit road. Ever since my older sister ran away a couple months ago, my mom and dad always have to go to court for something.
I shut the door and dragged myself up the creaky wooden steps. As I walked past my sister’s room, I had a slight urge to go inside. My sister and I were really close, but around the time she ran away, she acted really weird and didn’t talk to anyone. I opened the door and went in. I haven’t really been in here in about a year. I flipped on the switch. I looked around and saw that her blue walls were covered in posters and pictures. The bed was made with her blue, striped comforter. Her desk was neatly organized unlike mine, which is a mountain of random papers. I pushed aside the blue curtains on her window, revealing the bright sunlight from outside.
“Why did you leave, Ali?” I asked, with a little bit of hope that she would somehow reply. She didn’t.
I plopped down on her bed. As I did, I heard a light noise from under the bed. I got up and sat back down again to see if I could hear the sound again. Maybe it was my imagination. As I plopped down, I heard the same noise. I stood up and looked under the bed. Nothing. I checked under the comforter and sheets. Nothing. I decided to lift up the mattress. This time, there was something there. I reached for the object, and it turned out to be a blue diary. It was my sister’s diary. Wait, since when did she have a diary? I let go of the mattress and sat down on the bed, with the diary in my hand. My hand shook as I opened the book. On the first page, it said, Ali Ray Mills. I turned to the next page, and started reading, in hope of any clue of why she ran away.
05/09/12
I am Allison Ray Mills. My friends call me Ali. I am a 16 year old girl who likes texting, driving, lacrosse, and baking. I dislike all paranormal stuff like ghosts, revenge, demons, blah, blah, blah. I mean, really, who believes in that stuff? I have long, straight, brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles. I love the color blue. It’s so pretty and it brings me good luck. Whenever I see blue, something good happens to me. I was born, raised, and am living in San Francisco, California. I am in 10th grade at Westchester High School. I am a pretty good person. I have some weaknesses, such as being too gullible and jumping to conclusions, but other than that, I am a great person. I haven’t really done anything very bad.
Well, I believe in ghosts and I do a lot of research on them. I have a ton of books about ghosts, murder, and things like that. I have a very bad feeling about reading Ali’s diary. But why? I turned to the next page.
05/13/12
Today is Friday the thirteenth. I can’t believe today actually brings bad luck. I can’t believe that I did this. No, it can’t be true. Why did I flee? I should have stayed. Why did I run away? I should have called the ambulance and explained that I didn’t see him. How could I do this? I am so sorry that I did this to you. I’m sorry.
“Ambulance?! What is going on? What did Ali do?” I thought to myself.
I was driving back from my school’s trip to the museum that’s in Hollywood, California. I guess it’s kind of a long drive. I was driving alone in my car. I decided that since it was dark outside, no one would notice if I sped up a little over the limit. As I sped down the dark street, I saw a figure cross the road. I caught a glimpse of the figure, short, brown hair, blue t-shirt, white shorts, and a look in his freakishly-bright blue eyes that I’ll never forget. I stepped on the brakes as hard as I could. The guy ran to the other side of the street to dodge my car, but unfortunately, I hit him. I screamed, and with a loud “BAM!" he was lying helplessly on the ground. The car finally came to a stop. I started sobbing in my car. I knew that I should have called for the ambulance, but I didn’t. I was too scared. I was too selfish. I couldn’t. I hit the gas with all my strength, and fled from the scene. I should have stayed. I thought that blue brings me good luck…
“No, no, no. This can’t be true. How would Ali do this?” I said to myself. No wonder Ali was acting weird before she left. She kept on asking to borrow my books about ghosts and murder. Whenever I asked her why she needed the books, she just refused to answer. She stopped talking to her friends and she became paranoid. Whenever I talked about my research, she told me to shut up, or she would leave. I guess this was why.

05/29/12
I’m surrendering. I am going to the California police and I am going to tell them that I did it. I can’t live like this anymore. I’ve become paranoid and all of Caleb’s books say that ghosts will take revenge on you if you killed them. I guess I was wrong about ghosts. I am sorry that I did this. I am going to leave tonight. Caleb, if you are reading this, I’m sorry.

























-Ali Ray Mills
I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Ali killed someone. How could she? Why? How come she didn’t tell me?! I could have helped her set this straight.
I heard the front door open. I dropped the diary, ran out of her room, and fled downstairs. My mom and dad came in. How would I tell them? How could I possibly tell them that their daughter had murdered someone?
“Hey, Caleb!” My mom said cheerfully.
“Hey, Mom!” I said, as my voice shook.
“Are you OK?” She asked.
“Uh…Yes. Absolutely. I am fine.” I said as I hurried upstairs.
About an hour later, my parents turned on the TV. I was upstairs, trying to figure out how I was going to tell mom and dad.
Now, back to Fox 28 News at 10! Our newest case is about a girl, who was killed today by a hit and run in Hollywood, California. She had long, straight, brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles. A picture will be shown shortly.
No. Please don’t be who I think it is. Please.
I ran downstairs and into the living room.
This security camera footage shows that she was hit by a man with short, brown hair, blue eyes, a blue t-shirt, and white shorts. Police are searching for this man. If you have any information about him, please contact us.
You’ll never find him. He’s dead. Ali killed him so he took revenge on her. Then that means… He is a ghost!
Here is the picture of the girl that was hit.
There it was, a picture of Ali. She was killed just like the way she killed him. Ghosts, they’re real.
As I stared at her face on the TV screen, tears ran down my face. No one said anything. We all just sat there, shocked by what we all just saw. I didn’t know what to say.
I finally figured out something to say.
“Mom. Dad,” My voice trembled, “I found something in Ali’s room,”…