I Remember: Finale

I looked through my social media impatiently. It had been days since I last dreamed about the shed or the murders, and I had begun to think that they really had just been all made up in my head. I wanted nothing more than to understand why I was being shown Rebecca Sinclair’s life. She seemed so far separated from the murders. She was a reporter on the cases, sure, but she wasn’t a very good one. Of all the articles and reports that Sarah and I had read over the last week, not a single one gave any viable, helpful information. It just didn’t make sense.

None of this made sense.

“Bri, I wish you would stop thinking about it.” Sarah looked over at me, her eyes brimming with concern. “It feels like you are starting to obsess over this, and it’s scaring me. You haven’t even touched the breakfast I bought you.”

I looked down at my plate silently. We were back at the diner in which I first revealed my nightmare to Sarah. It felt surreal to be sitting here again, trying to pretend that everything was normal.

Over the last few days I really had fought myself on whether I believed in reincarnation, or past lives, and I had finally come to the conclusion that I did believe. It was the only explanation for why my dreams seemed to match up so well with the news articles. There was no way that it was a coincidence. I repeated this to myself over and over again, realizing but not caring that I hadn’t responded to Sarah.

“Umm… hello!” Sarah waved her hands in my face, which shooed away my thoughts for a moment.

”Oh. I’m sorry. I’m just preoccupied.” I picked at my eggs without enthusiasm, trying to act like a normal human being. “I’m not obsessing over it; I just can’t help but be weirded out by everything that happened in my dreams.”

I could feel Sarah’s eyes on me, boring into me, willing me to stop thinking about it.

“I’m fine. I promise. Maybe we can watch a movie together tonight, ya know, to get my mind off of it. I don’t really feel like being alone tonight.” In an effort to lighten the mood, I made my best puppy-dog eyes at Sarah, which made the corner of her mouth twitch upward slightly.

“Fine, but you are buying us food.” She turned her nose up at me, but I could see the smirk hiding behind her curt expression.


At around 10 p.m., we settled in to watch The Shining, since it was our favorite movie to watch, almost like a comfort film. I was good at hiding it, but I had been thinking about the murders, about Rebecca Sinclair, the entire day.

Sarah grabbed a container of Asian food from the coffee table and leaned back into the couch. While she did this, I pulled out my phone and opened the browser. I glanced at Sarah to see if she would say anything; when she didn’t, I searched Rebecca’s name to see if I could find any more information about her. I scrolled quickly through all of the articles I had seen previously, only stopping when I came across an address.

500 E. Kezee St.

Peabody, MA, 01960

Interesting. This was listed on a site that claimed the address was registered to a Rebecca Irene Sinclair. In the photo, which was quite old, sat a 60s or 70s blue vehicle. Light blue.

My brain felt hot with excitement. What if this was her house? What if I went there and found something that would help me figure out what was going on inside my head?

Hmmm, I thought. That’s only about a 20 minute drive from here. I wonder if I could convince Sarah to go with me.

With that thought, I looked up and noticed Sarah staring into my soul. “Bri, whatcha lookin’ at over there? Mind sharing with the class?” She yanked my phone from me and stared at the address for a minute. “No.”

I feigned ignorance. “What do you mean? I was just looking at houses in the next town over. I am getting kind of tired of living in an apartment.” I knew the lie was awful, but I didn’t know how else to respond. My initial hope that she would come with was squashed almost instantly.

“Bri, you need to drop this for a little while. I want to know what happened too, but this isn’t healthy what you’re doing. You’ve barely eaten, all you want to do is sleep because you think you’ll have another dream, and you’ve missed a lot of work this last week. That’s not normal. I’m worried about you.”

I barely noticed her hand on my arm. I was already making up my mind. I would go with or without her.


The next morning, Sarah left my apartment hesitantly, almost as if she could sense that I was up to something. I acted as nonchalant as possible, not wanting to tip her off, but internally I was vibrating with anticipation.

As soon as she left, I prepared myself mentally for what I was about to do… what would I even do once I got there? What if someone was living there? Was I just going to ask oh hey, can I come inside your house and look through everything?


I would worry about that once I got there. As I thought this, I was already jumping in my car. Wow, I thought to myself, realizing something for the first time. It’s weird how much my car actually looks like the one from my dream. It’s not the same model, but it is old and blue.

I pulled up the map on my phone and input the address from that website. Once I was on the road, that 20-minute drive seemed to take an eternity. But as I drew nearer to the house, a weird feeling began to settle over me. It was strange, but it felt like an extended period of déjà vu. Everything seemed so familiar, and it felt like my muscle memory, not my GPS, was guiding me to my destination.

Finally, I pulled up to the driveway of the house. It no longer looked neat, as it had in my dream. No, this house was long abandoned. There was an air of familiarity surrounding the property, with a tinge of something else. Maybe foreboding?

I got out of my car, my body still seeming to be on autopilot. Huh, this is just like my dream. I walked slowly, hesitantly towards the back yard. It was overgrown and unfenced.

The sense of foreboding grew heavier, this time accompanied by that weird fluttering feeling from my dream. I picked my way cautiously through the tall grass and weeds, careful to look out for snakes. I was sweating slightly, not knowing where I was going.

I made my way to a very back corner, this area covered by a dense tree with branches that dragged to the ground under their ancient weight. Pulling aside a thick curtain of leaves and twigs, I stepped into a small patch of earth, completely hidden from sight behind the tree.

Still without thinking or questioning, I chose a random spot and began to dig. I dug with my hands. At first I was doing so calmly, careful not to break my nails or skin. But after a few moments I realized that I was frantically digging. I couldn’t stop myself. I was now pouring sweat trying to uncover… what?

My nails scraped painfully against something hard and solid. At first I thought it was a root from the tree, but when I looked into the hole, I saw a box. The fluttering feeling in my stomach was overwhelming. I felt like I had to puke.

I scraped the dirt away from the box, my nails now broken and my fingers bleeding. I didn’t care. Slowly and carefully I lifted the box from the earth, and I almost did throw up. It was nearly identical to the one in my dreams. The one in the shed. The only difference was this one was smaller, and it had the word “TREASURES” etched into it roughly.

With trembling hands, either from the pain or excitement I felt, I opened the box. Just inside was a small leather journal. I pulled it out, about to read from it, and then I noticed what was underneath. One packet with photos, and many smaller packets. Each of these had one to three teeth in them, and each packet had a name and a city written on them. There were at least 10 packets of teeth in there.

The fluttering in my stomach was almost painful now. I couldn’t throw the box down this time. Instead, I remained calm and began leafing through the journal. Memories flooded back to me. Rebecca’s memories. Images flashed in my mind. Rebecca (me?) standing over a trembling child. Hands sorting through photos, hands still smeared with fresh blood. The same hands rinsing teeth in small sink in the shed. Rebecca looking at her reflection as she drove away from the shed, a sickening smile on her face as she got away with yet another murder.

One thought on “I Remember: Finale

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s