The Diary

“Pete has always been afraid of you and now I know why.”  Jenny’s voice came from behind me and startled me enough to drop the diary onto the hardwood floor.  

“Jenny.  Listen -” I was reluctant to tell her what I was doing because she had always been so timid.  Her conscious was always conjuring haunts and shadows.  She saw punishment in every insignificant act whether small or large. 

“Pete was right.  He has always been right.  He always told me you were trying to conjure Satan.  And every other being who resides in hell.  The diary is proof of your sins.”  Jenny whimpered as she slowly backed out of the doorway, her eyes set on something over my shoulder. 

I stared at the diary on the floor and wondered what it was about my grandmother’s journal that set her off.  But as I turned around, I saw the shadow of a man with fire for eyes.  It was Pete.  And he was back from the grave.