A Terrifying Secret In The Shed

My best friend Sasha committed suicide five years ago.

At twenty seven, she was an identical twin to Sarah.

Even though we’d never been that close, Sarah and I soon gravitated towards each other in order to cope.

We formed an even closer bond than the one I had with Sasha, which has made me feel a little guilty, at times.

Updated 2/9/2020 – Still, her parents were very grateful for our new friendship, which helped with the grieving process.

One thing has become a nagging issue though.

To this day, Sarah still doesn’t like talking about Sasha and does not like to see any photos or videos of her twin.

At first, I assumed it was the grief.

I soon discovered how temperamental she could be.

When her mother asked if I could help sort through Sasha’s stuff, Sarah was annoyed.

It went on over four weekends.

Each week was harder and harder.

Not only did I have to deal with the resurgence of grief, I had Sarah in my face.

Every Friday night, I had to fend off Sarah’s alcohol-fueled phone calls and threats of never speaking to me again.

It wasn’t until the fourth weekend when I discovered why she was so hostile.

It was while I sorted through a final box.

Inside was a large bag filled with bundles of letters.

Sarah’s Mom left the room so I took the opportunity to check them out.

They were all addressed to Sarah – from Sasha.

My blood ran cold when I opened one of them up.

The writing was scrawled and erratic.

It was a threat, telling Sarah that it was time to go.

Puzzled – I began checking the other letters.

They were all the same – threatening Sarah to end it all as there was only room in their family for one daughter.

Becoming ill, I was then distracted by a photo.

I screamed when I saw Sasha’s lifeless body hanging in the family shed.

I knew that Sasha had killed herself in that way in that location.

The problem was – Sarah was in the photo – standing next to her sister and smiling triumphantly.

Millions of thoughts flooded my mind.

If Sarah was being threatened, why was she the one still living?

Then it hit me.

Sarah was the one who’d died!

The only reason we assumed the remaining twin was Sarah was the birthmark on her cheek – a pale, silver crescent moon only a centimeter across.

The fact that Sarah was a makeup artist for a film production company made perfect sense.

My best friend killed her twin sister and made it look like suicide – then took her place.

While this was all dawning on me, I heard footsteps racing into the room.

I looked up and saw Sarah – who was really Sasha – smiling in a strange way.

She leaned over and snatched the bag out of my hands.

“We won’t need to hang onto that stuff, will we?”

She also slowly pulled the photo out of my hand and tossed it into the bag.

Then she reached down and brushed my hair away from my face, with a menacing look in her grey eyes.

“Best friends for life, right?” She asked.

Even though I knew I was in the presence of a killer, I had no idea what to do.

When her Mom came into the room with a tray of lemonade and cookies, Sasha took a glass after tossing the bag next to the door.

“Thanks, Mom.

This must’ve been hard for you both.

I’m sure Sasha is watching over us.”

She sipped her lemonade while looking right at me.

All I could do was go along with it.

I saw Sasha take the bag and throw it into the trunk of her car.

By then I was planning to call the cops as soon as she was gone, but she seemed to be able to read my thoughts.

She hissed into my ear while digging her fingers into my arm.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, bitch – so – you need to keep your mouth shut, okay?!”

Then she traced her finger across her throat for emphasis.

I nearly screamed – over her shoulder was an apparition.

It was Sarah!

Her ghostly finger came up to her mouth to silence me.

I saw her slightly bent neck as she mouthed the word: “Wait.”

Now – I’m waiting – for further instructions.