Dear God
Chapter 1
On April 1, 1985, my firstborn arrived. She was the sweetest thing, a bundle of joy that filled my heart with love. I named her Katy Wilson. Every smile she shared lit up my world—until one day when everything changed.
I had recently joined a church called “Ways To Haven.” The teachings were strange but captivating. They spoke of a place called "The Island of Punishment," where children were taken to be disciplined and trained to obey. I convinced myself it was for Katy’s own good, a way to ensure she would grow up respectful and obedient.
When I took Katy to that dreadful island, I thought I was doing the right thing. The church leaders assured me it would be fun for her. But as the days passed, I realized my mistake. The laughter that echoed through the trees turned into screams of fear. The once vibrant island became a place of torment, where children were subjected to bizarre rituals designed to instill obedience.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally brought Katy home. She was a shell of her former self, her spirit dimmed by the horrors she had endured. Though she obeyed my rules, I could see the fear in her eyes. I wished I could take back that decision, but it was too late.
Tragically, just weeks later, Katy fell ill. I rushed her to the hospital, but it was too late. She died in my arms, and my heart shattered into a million pieces. I thought about all the moments I could have cherished with her, all the joy I had stolen in the name of obedience.
Chapter 2
Grief consumed me, but what came next was beyond comprehension. As the nights grew longer, I began to hear whispers in the dark. “Mommy,” they would call, a soft, haunting echo that chilled me to the bone. I brushed it off as my imagination, but the voices only grew louder.
One night, I was jolted awake by a cold breeze sweeping through my room. I turned to find Katy standing at the foot of my bed, her once sweet face now twisted with sorrow. “Why did you let them take me?” she whispered, her voice a chilling reminder of my choices. “You said you loved me.”
I fell to my knees, begging for her forgiveness, but she only shook her head, tears streaming down her ghostly cheeks. From that night on, Katy’s spirit tormented me. She would appear in reflections, shadows lurking at the corners of my vision, and her laughter—once sweet—now twisted into something sinister.
I realized that it wasn’t just me she wanted to haunt. Each person who had ever been mean to her, who had ever turned a blind eye, began to experience strange occurrences: shadows lurking in their homes, whispers echoing in their ears, and the feeling of being watched.
Chapter 3
Desperate to escape the consequences of my actions, I returned to the church, seeking solace in their teachings. But the leaders only offered cold comfort, insisting I follow their rules more strictly. I felt trapped, knowing that every decision I had made had led to this torment.
Katy’s spirit grew more vengeful, and one by one, those who had wronged her faced the wrath of her haunting. I could hear their cries—each one a reminder of my failure as a mother. The church’s promises of salvation turned hollow as I realized I was lost, consumed by guilt and fear.
Chapter 4
In a last-ditch effort to find peace, I gathered the congregation and confessed everything. “I was wrong,” I cried. “We have to make amends!” But the whispers from the shadows grew louder, drowning out my pleas.
As the clock struck midnight, Katy appeared before me once more, surrounded by the anguished souls of those who had wronged her. “You should have listened,” she said, her voice echoing through the silence. “Now, we are all lost together.”
In that moment, I understood: there was no escaping the past. The island had taken my daughter, and in my pursuit of obedience, I had lost everything. The haunting would never end, a reminder of the love I had twisted into something dark.
As I faced my daughter’s wrath and the consequences of my choices, I realized that the true punishment was the isolation of my own guilt—a never-ending cycle of sorrow.
And so, I remain here, haunted by the echoes of a sweet child I once knew, forever trapped in the shadows of my decisions.