The Journal With My Name

I found something in my grandmother's attic that I wish I could unsee. Hidden behind decades

of dust was a leather journal filled with newspaper clippings about missing children from the 1970s.

Every single clipping had my grandmother's handwriting in the margins with dates and times.

Specific times. The handwriting matched her shopping lists downstairs perfectly.

I confronted my mom about it and her face went white. She made me swear never to mention

it again. But here's where it gets worse. I started going through old family

photos and noticed something disturbing. In pictures from that exact time period,

there's always a blurry figure in the background. Same figure. Different locations.