Short Horror Story: Just a Memory

I’ve been best friends with Beatrice since the seventh grade and believe it or not, we live three blocks away from each other. I love seeing her whenever I can. I once went over just to show her my new socks. Today is the day that Netflix adds the new season of Dead To Me on their platform. Bea and I planned to binge it weeks ago. I went ahead and called her, just to make sure she still wanted me to come over. 

She answered the phone with a soft voice, “Hey Lauren, everything okay?”

“Yes everything’s okay, I just wanted to make sure our plans still stood for this weekend,” I replied. 

“Of course! Come on over, I’m so excited to see you!!” 

“Alright, I’ll leave in a few. I’m excited to see you too,” I said as I hung up the phone. 

I grabbed my keys, my drink, a big bag of snacks, and walked out the door. 

As I pulled up to her house I saw a car in her driveway, I thought to myself, I thought she had a black car? I forgot about it until I saw her front yard. Just a plain yard. Beatrice has pretty butterflies with all sorts of colors throughout her yard. This is weird, it doesn’t even seem like her house anymore. I walked up to her doorstep and knocked on the door. It took a minute, but eventually the door opened. That is not Beatrice.

 “Uh.. Hello, is Beatrice here? I just called her a few minutes ago and she’s expecting me,” my voice quavered slightly when I spoke. 

At the door was a tall fair-skinned man, his face had an aged look to it. Not the growing old kind, but the kind you get after raising children. 

“Beatrice?” I nodded and the man said, “No, Beatrice isn’t here. Not anymore at least… You didn’t hear?”

 Hear about what? Is this guy joking?

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I’ve never been more confused in my life.

The man sighed and adjusted himself on the doorframe, “She died two years ago.”