October 15, 2013, 

Dear Diary,

I don’t know where to start. I'm so confused. I overheard hushed conversations between my parents last week, it was dark and past my bedtime. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying but, they were fighting. I think it was about me. 

The next day they started to act weird. I don't know how to describe it but they were more tense and kept their conversations with me brief. Mom even avoided me altogether. They knew I heard their fight but none of us brought it up. I’m not sure what they think I heard but they would have hushed conversations when I was in the room with glances in my direction. 

I feel like an outsider in my home, like an alien who crash-landed on a different planet. I’m going into the attic tonight, where they never let me go. I hope I can find some answers there.  

Lily

Deep in the state of Tennessee, there was a small town, Lynchburg. It was a somewhat forgotten place, with a population of only 2,800 people, most of whom were dead. The only reason they had kept such a large population number was because no one in their town was qualified to change it and no one cared enough about it to try and fix it. 

The Moores lived in Lynchburg but they were not forgotten, to the town at least, their daughter had gone missing 5 years ago, and this turned the couple bitter but they kept to themselves. 

The day their little girl had gone missing the whole town pitched in to help search for her for hours, eventually it had gotten too dark to search for her but they would do this every night for a week and every night they would turn up empty. No one had even found a trace of her, soon the searches began to die down and people stopped showing up. But Lily’s parents never stopped every night from 8 pm to 10 pm. They would comb through the forests. This was well known amongst the townspeople, they could hear them calling for her night after night.

Soon the Moores stopped attending social gatherings, they became distant, and her mother, Penny, stopped showing up for work. There was a funeral held in her honor 2 years later but Penny refused to attend, attending it would force her to accept that her only daughter was most likely dead. 

Lily’s father, Mark, attended but he sat in the back and kept his head down. Mark had never talked to anyone even before Lily had gone; he was very much like a hermit keeping to himself and only coming out when absolutely necessary. 

October 21, 2013,

Dear Diary,

The hushed conversations and avoidance haven’t stopped, it's gotten worse. I had an idea last night as I sat awake in bed trying to put the pieces together. I remembered that it’s my birthday soon, maybe they don’t know what to get me or are afraid that they’ll let it slip. Dad’s never been good with secrets so maybe this could be a new way of them trying not to let it slip. 

I haven’t gone into the basement yet I feel like they're watching me all the time. Sometimes it feels like the walls are closing in and the love that our house was once built on are now chains holding me down and suffocating me. 

Lily
It’s been 5 years since the disappearance of Lily and the Moores are still as closed off as ever. They have a routine now, Mark leaves early in the morning for work at the old lumber mill and Penny lies in bed until late in the afternoon at around 2 pm then she gets up and makes herself a cup of coffee and stares out the window with a thousand-yard stare. By the time Penny snaps out of the trance that holds her hostage, Mark gets home. Penny moves from the kitchen to the living room and lies down on the couch as Mark makes dinner. “Couch rotting” is what Mark has always referred to it as, Penny’s “couch rotting” has started plenty of fights and has left their marriage hanging by a thread. By the time Mark has set the table, they have already started fighting. Their fights last for half an hour at the least and the food gets cold before they eat. After dinner, they slip on their shoes to call for Lily like they've done every night for the past five years. 

However, this night was different, they had eaten their dinner and put their shoes on, and a phone started to ring, it was a landline. But there was only one in the house, Lily’s. They followed the sound up the stairs and up to her old room. Mark hesitated before opening the door to see an old phone in the center of her room plugged into the wall. 

Penny picked up the phone to answer, “Hello?’’ but there was no answer, just breathing.

“Hello,” She said again but there was a response this time.

“Mom?” the voice on the other end asked.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” Penny said, confused.

“It’s me Lily,” the voice responded.

Mark grabbed the phone out of his now weeping wife’s hand angrily. “Who are you and what kind of sick joke is this?” He demanded assuming it was a kid from the town who had gotten bored and crafted a new way to entertain herself.

“It’s me, Lily,” the voice said again this time in a panic.

“No, it’s not,” Mark said.

The line “Why won’t you believe me,” could be heard as Mark hung up the phone.

The phone rang again but Mark grabbed a pair of scissors off of Lily’s old desk and cut the cord. The ringing stopped but only for a moment before it was heard again. The house was silent and the phone echoed through the room and down the hall.

Neither of them managed to move again until the ringing stopped. Penny dropped to her knees and sobbed but Mark still stood there motionless staring at the phone trying to figure out how it got there and why it wouldn’t stop ringing.  

October 28, 2013,

Dear Diary, 

Well, it wasn’t my birthday, that was yesterday and I didn't get much of a present, just an old landline. Not to sound ungrateful but I was a little underwhelmed. I mean who wouldn’t be? The secretiveness for 12 days just for a pair of socks my parents are by no means poor but they aren't rich either, the bills get paid on time and we always have enough food, I wouldn’t have even wanted them to buy me anything I just want them to acknowledge my existence again and have a real conversation with me, one that isn’t forced. 

Anyway, I went into the attic to find something to explain everything last night and I couldn’t stay in there for long but I found a picture. It was of a girl, she looked just like me and I would've thought it was me except for the large birthmark on her neck. That girl wasnt me and I remember everything. 

Lily
Deep within the Moores attic lay a second diary, older yet responding to the same author. Both held secrets locked away within the wetherd pages, waiting to be found. 

February 14, 2005, 

Dear Diary, 

Today was Valentine's Day, and I had the best day ever. Mommy and Daddy went out for a date night and left me and Milly home alone. We had so much fun. 

Milly and I were playing in the living room with the really big blanket, and she got all tangled up in it. When I helped her out of it, she fell asleep. She looked like she was having a really nice nap, and Mommy said that it’s rude to wake people and to just be patient, so I waited. 

But she wouldn’t wake up. I kept trying, but she didn’t move. Mommy and Daddy aren’t home yet I hope they won't be mad it was an accident. I didn't mean to. But maybe if they see her sleeping on the floor, they’ll be happy that she isn’t making noise anymore. 

- Lily

Penny looked up in disbelief at her husband, “Why would you do that?”

“That wasn’t Lily,” He replied, staring at Lily’s bed, refusing to look at his wife. 

“How would you know that Mark?” Penny questioned him angrily.

“How do you know it was her? Are you just gonna trust everything you hear now?” Mark replied. 

That night was the first night in five years that they didn’t call for their daughter, they were preoccupied with the question. Was that their daughter? If not then who was it and what did they have to gain from the tormenting of the Moores? 

For the next few nights, Penny and Mark were paranoid, hearing doors opening, windows creaking, and branches snapping. Lily’s room remained sealed shut for the rest of the week almost like the door never existed to begin with. It held an eerie feeling each time they passed by it, likely due to the phone inside it that held the secrets of Lily’s disappearance.  

The nights became restless, plagued by unsettling thoughts of who could be on the other side of the line haunted them but neither of them would admit it to one another. Tension and fear filled the Moores' house and seeped into the walls. 

The Moores now wore dark circles beneath their eyes, a testament to the restless nights spent tossing and turning. Their alertness became dulled, now replaced by a hollow stare. The toll of exhaustion became evident on each of their faces.

Mark’s movements became sluggish and his reflexes were dulled, as if there was an invisible weight holding his body down. He blinked constantly as if trying to shake off the persistent drowsiness that clung to him like a leech draining him of energy and life. 

Penny, usually assertive, now appeared on edge, unable to hold eye contact or a conversation. She fidgeted, her nerves worn out from the constant fight or flight she was now stuck in. Her once somewhat unkempt appearance was now scraggly and disheveled. 

The days moved through them, their interactions were detached as they fought to stay awake during the day but they began to lose the fight against the pull of exhaustion. Their minds struggled to function, unable to focus on anything, even the smallest of tasks like washing the dishes. 

November 3, 2013,

Dear Diary, 

Today felt fake, scripted almost. My interactions with Mom and Dad felt so forced today, it’s like we were characters in some play instead of a family having a genuine conversation. 

The laughter, the overly affectionate gestures, the sickeningly sweet smiles. They're trying so hard to be nice, it’s not that I don't appreciate the effort but, it just feels so forced. I miss the way we used to be when the laughs were genuine and the smiles weren’t forced. But I guess we won’t be like that again, not for a while, if ever. They keep calling me Milly, my name’s not Milly. They won’t stop, it was an accident. When I was six I didn’t understand what happened. 

I caught them glancing at each other when they thought I wasn’t looking. It was like they were trying to keep up the act of the perfect family. I just can’t shake the feeling that something’s off with them, with us. I wish they could just be normal without this forced happiness hanging in the air, looming over us. 

I miss the connection we used to have, with the easy-going conversations, ones that didn’t feel like we were on Broadway putting on a show for outsiders. Maybe it’s just me, but it feels like we're dancing around the problem or the truth even, it’s making everything feel uncomfortably artificial. 

Lily
The dim glow of the lamp cast shadows on the faces of Mark and Penny as they sat on the worn-out couch. Both were exhausted from the sleepless nights and draining days. The house was silent until the phone began to ring again. This startled Penny making her jump, spilling the coffee she was holding, down her blouse. 

Mark broke the silence between them, his voice trembling with uncertainty. “We can’t ignore it, Penny. Maybe we should answer it, find out who’s really on the other end”

 “You’re right, we can’t keep living like this. We just need to face whoever’s on the other end”. Penny hesitated before nodding in agreement

They both made their way up the stairs and to Lily’s room, as if they were in sync they both reached for the doorknob. Penny’s hand hovered over the door knob before twisting it and pushing the door open to reveal the thing that they had both spent the past week avoiding. But it was time to face their fears and answer the phone. 

Mark stepped forward and picked up the phone holding it to his ear. A faint voice crackled through the line, almost completely drowned out by static. “What did you do to me?” the voice cried out almost in a panic. The words hung in the air, sending shivers down their spines, neither of which answered. 

The voice continued “It’s so dark in here and c-cold.” The line was quiet for a moment as if the person paused to breathe before continuing “I can’t breathe.”

Unbeknownst to the townspeople Lily’s disappearance was no accident and the Moores knew it. They were the fact she was missing and had been playing the role of grieving parents ever since. 

The room seemed to close in around them, trapping them inside, they continued to listen to what the voice was saying. Paralyzed by the revelation the only way this would even begin to make sense was if it was her. But that in itself was impossible, the Moores garden held a dark secret in its soil.

Five years ago almost to the day, the Moores had taken Lily, their own daughter, from her room in the middle of the night and confined her in the wooden box that would soon be her casket. Despite Lily’s best efforts Mark and Penny’s combined strength overpowered her, forcing the top onto the box, nailing it down, and sealing her fate. 

Of course, this created a new problem for the Moores, What would they do with the box? But Penny was smart, smart enough to plan, and had Mark dig a large hole in her garden the day before. So this is how they disposed of the body, in the middle of the night, in the rain, and with her daughter pleading for mercy. 

The line cut out leaving them in a sickening silence, tension building around them. 

“There’s no way that’s Lily right?” Penny asked her husband pleadingly, tears welling in her eyes. 

“I don’t know anymore” Mark responded conflicted, still holding the phone up to his ear. 

“There’s only one way to know,” Penny said, “Get the phone,” before walking out of the room. 

Mark carried the phone through the house following his wife unaware of where she was going. Penny led Mark outside and around the side of the house. She paused for a moment looking back to ensure that Mark was following her before unlatching the garden gate and swinging it open. Penny and Mark now stood above their daughter's unmarked grave staring down at it. 

The moonlight cast an eerie glow over the spot where, five years ago, Lily had been buried alive. The air around them felt heavy with anticipation, and the silence of the world around them seemed to amplify the beating of their hearts. 

Mark’s hand trembled as he held the phone, the only connection to the person who called themselves their daughter. The same one that rang only a week ago, echoing through their house and their unsettling past. It was time to face the truth that had been buried along with her five years ago. 

Taking a deep breath, Mark pressed the redial number on the landline. The ringing was faint but it pierced through the calmness of the night, resonating through the ground Mark and Lily stood on. The sound was haunting and unearthly. 

As the ringing continued, the earth seemed to hum with an unsettling energy. Penny’s horrified gaze stayed fixated on the ground, her mind filled with memories of that night. Mark’s eyes mirrored his wives mixed with fear and horror as they both shared the weight of their past. 

The seconds stretched by each one feeling longer than the last, each ring was a painful reminder of the secrets buried beneath the ground they stood on. And then, as if a spell was broken, the ringing stopped, snapping them out of their gazes, leaving only the cold night air and the echoing of unanswered questions lingering in the garden. The truth had finally made its decision to show its ugly face and it now echoed beneath their feet. 

“Call it again,” Penny said.

Mark did as his wife said and pressed the redial button on the landline. Without another word she began to kneel down onto the ground, her ear pressed up against the cool damp soil. There was an anticipating silence, her heart pounded in her ears and her breaths were shallow. 

For a moment there was nothing but the sound of her breathing, it was shallow, in and out. And then she heard the ringing, it was faint but it was there and she heard it - the distant sound of a ringing phone, muffled from layers of soil. 

It was almost as if the phone was calling out to them, yet another reminder of the one thing they couldn't leave in the past, it refused to be silenced. But this couldn’t be possible. The only thing they had put in that box was Lily, how did she get a phone? Or more importantly, how is she still alive? The oxygen should’ve ran out years ago, she shouldn’t have survived. 

Mark’s gaze met Penny’s with a knowing look before he grabbed a shovel, an understanding passed between them, one where no words were exchanged but they both agreed. Without a word Mark reached for the shovel that was leaned up against the house and struck the ground with it. The weight of the shovel felt like lead in his hands as he gripped it tightly. 

Penny watched Mark silently as he dug deeper into the ground, nearing closer to Lily’s makeshift grave, flinging dirt around him. The sound of dirt hitting the ground echoed through the night. Each movement felt like a dagger plunged into his heart, a painful reminder of the secrets he buried along with his beloved daughter. 

As the hole grew deeper, Penny took a step forward, her eyes fixated on the ever growing hole. The world was silent only broken by the rhythmic sound of the shovel biting into the earth with its metal shovel head. 

After what felt like hours, but was only a matter of minutes, finally, the shovel hit something solid. The sound vibrated off the shovel through the stillness of the night. With trembling hands, Mark cleared away the dirt, revealing the wooden lid of the box beneath. 

Penny’s breath caught in her throat as she watched Mark pry open the lid, her heart pounded in her chest. Moonlight flooded into the makeshift grave for the first time in a decade, then they saw her - Lily, her decomposed body lying still and silent in her casket. 

Tears welled in Mark’s eyes as he fell to the ground and reached out to touch his daughter’s cold, lifeless body. The truth, it seemed, had finally begun to reveal itself, and with it came a flood of overwhelming emotions. Penny’s breath caught in her throat as she inched closer, her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. It was Lily, her daughter, lying still. Her face froze in the state of shock from 5 years ago, mouth agape as if she was mid scream when her time came. 

Penny sank to the ground beside her husband, her sobs coming from deep in her diaphragm, echoing through the silent night. The phone, with its ringing that had plagued their lives, was nowhere to be found. All there was to see was their daughter’s lifeless partially decomposed body. 

A sense of unease settled over the Moores home, it gnawed at the only fragments of sanity they had left. Every rustle of leaves, every distant sound had seemingly been amplified in their minds. Everything was so loud, overwhelming almost. 

“We shouldn’t have done this,” Mark muttered, his voice strained with fear. “What if someone saw us? They're watching us, I just know it.”

“We need to get out of here” Penny whispered. 

They moved in a frenzied panic, casting glances periodically over their shoulder as they frantically filled in the hole not even bothering to realign the wood plank separating Lily from the soil that trapped her. Every shadow seemed to threaten them as they stumbled through the garden in the darkness, every sound a forewarning of their impending doom. 

They quickly reached the safety of their home, locking the doors and drawing the curtains, barricading themselves inside their home. But even with their new found “security measures”, they could not escape the relentless grip of their paranoia that now held their minds hostage. 

Soon they began to jump at every creak in the floorboards, every flicker of lights. Sleep did not come easy to them, replaced by the restless hours spent fearful of what was to come. 

In the early hours of the morning, they were only but shadows of their former selves, shells of a being. As the days passed, the paranoia that they harbored was nourished and grew to be plentiful in them, branding them with the constant reminder of their sins. 

As rumors about the Moores began to form, whispers of unease and doubt began to spread through the streets of Lynchburg. The townspeople began to avoid the once somewhat-familiar paths that lead to their door. The shadow of doubt loomed over the Moores house. 

Yet, as time passed the whispers died down and gradually faded into history.  The Moores name soon meant nothing more than a campfire story and forgotten fables. Their house now stood silently and empty, a relic on the hill and the Moores became nothing more than a footnote in the town's history, their story forever forgotten.