Don't Panic

May 15th, 2001
         I am not afraid. I am not chicken. I am not anything those awful girls at college call me. So what if I’ve watched one to many horror movies as a child and am more cautious because of them? That does not give those girls any right to jump out at me from behind desks or from around building corners. The laugh when I jump or shriek, but wouldn’t anybody if they were surprised like that? But just because I jump does NOT mean that I am afraid of everything that “goes bump in the night.” I am certainly not afraid of my own shadow. Somehow I will show those girls: Stacey, Emily, Lauren, Amanda. I will prove to them that I, Shayla Monique McGregor, am not afraid. Somehow, I will show them. I am not a coward.

May 20th, 2001
         I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into. Stacey Moore, by far my biggest tormenter, approached me today after our last mythology class and inquired to whether the boogey man had visited this week and how many cuts and scrapes Freddy Krueger had given me during the night. Finally fed up with the high priestess of bitch-dom, I replied with the first stinging comeback I had ever been able to come up with. I asked her whether it was her boyfriend I saw sneaking out of her dorm window last night or if it was one of the other dozen guys she was screwing.
         “You think you’re so smart, you little wench?” she asked me in that stuck up tone of hers. “You are nothing but a coward.”
         I absolutely hate getting called that! These girls don’t even know me; Stacey just moved into my hometown this year, but for some reason they don’t like me. They have even gone as far as to mail me letters to my house, making them look like a stalker was after me. But I was too smart for them.
         To get back to today… “Well,” I responded to the rich bitch, “if I were a chicken, which I am not, it is still better than being a whore!” I didn’t care that half of the English building could hear me. I was mad, and somebody needed to stand up and show that bitch Stacey that she wasn’t all high and mighty.
         She didn’t let me get away with that too easy, though. “Is that so?” she snarled, catching me before I could get away. “If you think you’re so brave, prove it.” She paused, letting a crowd form around us. “I dare you to spend overnight in the old McAlistar place.”
         For a new girl in town, Stacey sure knows her local urban legends. The McAlistar place has been abandoned for a century due to rumors of it being haunted. I didn’t know what to do. Stacey had me backed into a corner, and she knew it, too. I couldn’t refuse in front of half the English students. If I did, I would never see the end of the torments. And I guarantee that I would fall victim to more than just a random scaring from behind a corner. So I did the only thing I could think to do. “Fine,” I said, surprising everyone within hearing distance.
         Now I have to keep my word. Now I have to spend the night in an abandoned, and possibly haunted, mansion. Like I said before, I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into.

June 2nd, 2001
         If I’m going to do this, I might as well do it and get it over with quickly. Even though college has ended for the semester, Stacey is still on my back about the McAlistar mansion. I have become her new “best friend.” She visits every day, and pretends to be really nice to me in front of my parents. But when we are alone she changes. She asks when I will ever get the nerve to fulfill our deal. I think she got her rich parents to move here last year just so she would always be around to torment me. Well, she won’t get the best of me. She won’t see me back out of a dare. Tomorrow I go. I will go late at night, and stay through the morning. I will replace you, dear diary, with a tape recorder, so that I might record my experiences as they happen. I will make sure Stacey sees me enter that house. She will get the proof she needs to finally believe that I am not what she says I am. I will prove to her once and for all that I am not afraid. I shall walk away victorious, and Stacey Moore will have to eat her words. And just to make it interesting, I believe I’ll make her do it in front of the entire student body next semester.

Voice recordings
         This is my first recording from inside the McAlistar mansion. Um… it is nine pm on June 3rd, 2001. I don’t know what I am doing in this house. I don’t belong in this house. No mortal being belongs here. I wouldn’t even ask rich bitch Stacey to come here anymore. Something is definitely up with this place. Nothing has happened, thank the maker, but there is a vibe about this place that just makes me shiver. And I’ve only been in here five minutes!
         Stacey had to escort me to the front gates, probably just to make sure I don’t, in her words, “chicken out at the last minute.” She claimed that she would be watching the door all night to make sure I don’t leave early. (snickering) What a laugh. Most likely it’ll be one of her many boy toys watching the house.
And what a house this is! I have stationed myself in what looks like the living room. It looks okay. Not much paranormal activity goes on here – at least I hope. I expect I will explore the remainder of the house later.
         (sigh) It’s going to be a long night, dearest tape recorder. I hope you’re prepared for it. I hope I’m prepared for it.

         It is now 10:35 pm. I have searched and explored my surroundings for over an hour now. This house is amazing! I can’t even describe all the richness and grandeur that went into the making of this place. I can’t see why this place has been abandoned for so long. And I definitely don’t believe the rumors circulating about this lovely old place. To think that old Mr. McAlistar slaughtered his entire family somewhere in this house is simply prepost…
         What was that? Oh… I think something just fell over. I didn’t touch anything, so I can’t have made anything fall.
         What was that?! I cannot be hearing this! I just checked the entire house, and I am the only one here. How can I be hearing footsteps from the floor above me? I don’t want to go back and check. Then again, what if Stacey gets a hold of this tape? I know her; she has her ways of doing things. Well, Miss Rich Bitch Stacey, I won’t have you think I’m a chicken. Come on feet. Back to the second floor.

         I don’t belong here. Something is not right with this place. I don’t care if Stacey thinks I’m a coward, or torments me in the middle of college. This place would test the courage of even the bravest person. All I hear around me is whisperings, footsteps, and crashes. The fact that it’s quarter to midnight doesn’t help. Stacey’s dare was unfair. It was malicious. It was just plain nast…
         No no no I did not just see that! That book did not just fly off that shelf by itself! Oh no, that’s not what I think it is! That is not old Mr. McAlistar coming towards me with – eww – his daughter’s severed head in his hand. No! Stay away from me! Don’t come near me! Stay away… (crashes and screams)

         Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic, Shayla. Remember what Grandma McGregor told you – panic leads to early deaths.
         Oh man I wish I knew what time it is. I lost my watch running from Mr. McAlistar’s ghost. It’s got to be after midnight. What a great way to start my twentieth birthday, in a haunted house, on a dare from a spoilt brat with a mean streak. Well, I hope you’re happy, Stacey Moore. I’m scared to death. I just pray that it will be dawn soon so I can get the hell out of here.
         I suppose I should explain what’s happened. I’ve been hiding in this closet for what’s seemed like an hour. I have a feeling this was the room of the little girl who was decapitated. All the dolls and stuffed animals are missing their heads.
         (banging) Why don’t they leave me alone?! Why don’t they just leave me alone?! (increased banging) Just leave me alone! (hard footsteps) Go away!

         (whispering) I am so scared. I have never been so scared in my entire life. I can’t breath because of the pressure of the fear. I have been chased all around this house, from the basement to the attic and back again. I haven’t had a moment’s peace for hours, until I found this secret room in one of the closets. I even tried to sneak out of the house, but suddenly all the doors and windows were locked.
         Oh God, I think they’re coming for me again. I’m tired to the point of exhaustion. I can’t breath. I don’t think I’ll make it out of here alive. I don’t think they want me to leave here alive. I really don’t. Well, Stacey, I hope you’re happy. You’ve just cost me my life. Dearest Lord, please help me out of this place. Help me. Oh God, please help me… (static)

A segment of a local news program, aired June 7th, 2001
         A local girl, Shayla Monique McGregor, was found dead this morning in the abandoned McAlistar Mansion. A police search had been conducted in the area for the young college student, who had been reported missing since the morning of the fourth. Questioning other local college students led police to the mansion, where Miss McGregor was found dead, her hand on the doorknob in a futile attempt to escape what was very likely a horrifying night. The autopsy report says that Shayla died of a heart attack, estimated at 3:05 am, just moments before the young woman would turn twenty. A police investigation into the death led officers to Shayla’s diary and a voice recording, both found at the scene. Reviewing them showed that Miss McGregor had been dared to spend a night in the house by another local college student, Stacey Moore. It is undecided at this time whether the McGregor family will file a wrongful death suit against Miss Moore. Funeral services for Miss McGregor will be held June 9th at 10:00 am at the Sunshine Cemetery.

From the pages of Stacey Moore’s journal
June 9th, 2001
         Lord, what have I done? I’ve caused someone to die. I had no idea Shayla would have a panic-induced heart attack. I didn’t know. I nearly collapsed when I heard what had happened to Shayla. And after the police made me listen to the tape Shayla made, I knew how really wrong I was to send her there. Though that doesn’t make a difference, not anymore.
         I went to the funeral today. I felt bad about the way I’ve been treating Shayla, so I went to pay my respects and ask forgiveness. The looks I got there, though. It was as if I was a murderer going to look at “the fruits of my labor.”
         I feel so bad. I feel as if I killed Shayla myself. I didn’t know Shayla’s night in the mansion would kill her. I had no idea. Oh God, I had no idea.

August 27th, 2001
         My life is ruined. Absolutely ruined. Today is the first day of the fall semester, and nothing is the same. All my friends have abandoned me. I get dirty looks, looks that could kill, from absolutely EVERYONE. Students AND teachers alike. I have become the freak that I myself made poor Shayla. I don’t think my life will ever be the same. All I can say is that I deserve it. I deserve to be punished for how I treated Shayla. I deserve to be punished for sending Shayla to her death. I deserve to be punished.

September 5th, 2001
         I knew it. I knew it would happen sooner or later. A group of my old, so-called friends approached me today and, in the same snotty matter I used last semester, dared me to spend one night in the old McAlistar place. What am I supposed to do? I had no idea Shayla wasn’t going to come out of there. Do these people want me dead? I don’t know. I think that they want me to be as scared as Shayla must have been. Scared at the very least.
         I might as well do it. Why not? What have I got to lose? I already caused somebody her life. My life -- it doesn’t mean anything anymore. I have no more friends. I won’t have a home to go to after this semester; I am to be sentenced for causing Shayla’s wrongful death in December. I don’t blame her parents for taking me to court. I really don’t blame the jury for finding me guilty just two days later. I don’t care, not anymore.
         I’m going to do it. I’m going to spend the night in the McAlistar place. I will do like poor Shayla did and take a tape recorder. I will go this weekend. Like I said, I have nothing to lose anymore.

September 7th, 2001
Friday
4 pm
         This is my last journal entry before I enter the McAlistar mansion. If my experience will end up like Shayla’s did, then this will be my last entry ever. I don’t even care if I walk out of there or get taken out in a body bad. I just don’t care anymore.
         Dear God, forgive me for the horrors I have caused Shayla McGregor. Forgive me for killing her. And give me the strength to forgive myself.

Stacey’s voice recordings
         I know now how Shayla felt when she first came in here. This place is so creepy! Nothing has happened yet, but there’s some sort of supernatural feeling here that I just cannot explain.
         Oh my word, the police tape where they… (gulp) where they marked Shayla’s body is still here. She really did die reaching for the door. My God, what did she go through here?
         (gasp) I think I heard something. I… I just think my imagination is running away with me. I’ve always been told I’ve had an over-active imagination. Maybe that’s why I believed I was so cool and…
         (crashes) Now I know that’s not my imagination! Something is definitely going on here!
         (crashes and screams) That’s it! This place is haunted! I’ve no doubt about that! But I’m not going to leave easily. Shayla didn’t leave because of me. I’m not going to leave either.

         This place is freaky. Outright horrifying. It’s like that show I watch where people go into haunted houses at night. This place would be perfect for that show.
         I think the ghosts are really active tonight. With every step I take, something crashes either behind me or in front of me. But when I go to check it out, everything is as it should be. I don’t get it. Maybe the ghosts are just playing mind tricks with me.
         (scream) Oh God I did not just see that! I did not just see Shayla in that mirror! She’s not behind me. (shriek) But she’s in that mirror. Oh Shayla don’t look at me like that! I didn’t mean it! Believe me I didn’t mean it! (scream)

         (breathing hard) I’ve heard of vengeful ghosts, but this is ridiculous. Shayla, poor Shayla, has been chasing me up and down this house for hours. She wants me dead; I know she does. Maybe that’s the only way she can rest in peace. But I won’t let her kill me too easy. If she is going to kill me, she is going to have to chase me.
         Oh God, what’s that noise? It sounds like… like a knife being dragged against the wall. (crying) This is not the way I wanted to die. A heart attack I could have handled, but not being cut.
         (footsteps and screams) Shayla, please don’t! I’m sorry for what I did to you! Please… (screams and static)

Segment from a local news show, aired September 16th, 2001
         Tragedy again befalls our town, as another young woman was found dead. Stacey Moore, a college student recently found guilty for Shayla McGregor’s death, was found dead last night in the McAlistar mansion. Once again, a police investigation turned up Miss Moore’s journal and a cassette tape, found at the crime scene. It appears that Miss Moore was so overcome with guilt at Miss. McGregor’s death that she entered the house in an attempt to make amends. A search for Miss Moore started when started when she had been reported missing for a week. Interviews with other college students revealed that Miss Moore had been talking about going into the abandoned house. Coroner’s reports conclude that Miss Moore killed herself by slashing her own wrists. Funeral services will be held September 18th, at 10 am at the Sunshine Cemetery.