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Home›Nonfiction›Self-Help & Relationships›The Finding: Part Four

The Finding: Part Four

By Brooke_Smith93
November 1, 2021
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Halloween
Photo by Karolina Grabowska from Pexels.com.
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Read the previous parts here.


I tried to avoid it, but it worsened as the days went on. I’m talking about the guilt. If I have had listened to my gut on getting an uber, Ian would be still alive. My poor judgment killed my best friend and I can’t do anything but live with it.

“Hey. Guess what I got.” Calvin walked in, hiding something behind his back.

“What?” I turned over to face him.

Calvin revealed two plastic bags; one filled with assorted Halloween candy and another with Chinese food takeout boxes.

“I figured we could stream Halloween Kills and pig out,” he smiled. “If you like.”

My mind said “yes. I’d love to.” But a different response came out of my mouth like vomit.

“Maybe later.” I turned back around, trapped by the depression.

“Ok.” Calvin sighed and headed out.

He paused at the doorway.

“I am trying my best to be supportive, but it feels like Ian wasn’t the one who died.”

I buried my face and held in the sobs as the sound of his footsteps faded. I hate how my misery kept pushing him away.

I can’t lose him too. I soaked the pillow with tears. I just can’t!


I usually enjoy the spooky season but I could not wait for it to end this year. Halloween was Ian’s most favorite holiday. We actually met at a party on Halloween night in 2000. I knew he was going to be a part of my life the moment we met.

“Oh my gosh! I love your costume! You look like Britney more than I do.”

My focus was on grabbing another handful of sour gummy worms, so my eyes only got caught glittery polished toes in a pair of pink plastic heels.

“Thanks! I like your…” my eyes widened as I realized it was a boy wearing them. “— heels.”

“Don’t you just love them? I think Britney would.”

The fact that I was speaking to a boy who wore a plaid skirt and platforms didn’t phase me. His confidence was so intriguing, like an unpredictable shooting star.

“Most definitely.” I giggled. “My name is Savannah.”

“I’m Ian.” He replied. “So I’m guessing ‘Oops…I Did It Again’ is your favorite?”

“It’s actually “Baby, One More Time.” What’s yours?”

He was about to answer when another boy named Jacob pulled his skirt down.

“Hey, moron! Didn’t you forget boys wore pants?! HAHAHA!”

Laughter filled up the room. Ian’s face turned redder than my jumpsuit as he stood there in his underwear. Tears appeared in his eyes. I clenched my fists and stomped to Jacob.

“The only moron here is YOU!” I said, swinging my fists. “You’re a mean butthole! Never mess with him again!”

Other kids crowded around us and cheered. Ian came running through and pulled me back.

“He got the point!! Come on! The grow-ups are coming!” he grabbed my hand and ran out of the back door.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” he said when we slowed down.

“Isn’t it what friends are for though?” I replied with a smile.

“I guess so.” he chuckled.


Thinking about that memory made me want to see if I could watch others with the mirror. I haven’t touched it since the day I threw it across the room. The only thing Calvin knows is that I was trying to hit a spider with it.

“I will get the glass replaced later,” I told him when he handed it back to me.

I sneaked to my office and got it out of its hiding spot.

“Pssh. Is anyone there?” I whispered into the mirror. “Can you show me more memories?”

“The past won’t help you understand the future.” The peaceful version of myself appeared.

“Seriously? You just showed me one a while ago. That makes no sense.”

“Do you remember how you acted when we did?”

“Yes. I was overwhelmed, obviously.” I huffed. “I think I can handle it all better now.”

“Well, we can only show possibilities of your future now.”

“Fine.” I sighed. “Go ahead.”

The mirror changes and I gasped at the first couple of images.

“Oh. My. God.”


To be continued…

Photo by Karolina Grabowska from Pexels.com.

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Brooke_Smith93

Brooke Settoon Smith is from Louisiana. She graduated from Southeastern Louisiana University with a bachelor's degree in English with a concentration in Creative Writing and a minor in History. She has a blog called Creative Works by Brooke Settoon Smith, which presents her most recent short stories and poems. She is recently an author on the mobile app called Texties. She is a contributing writer for The Mighty and Unwritten. She has also created a blog called Rolling Through Life by Brooke Smith, which presents her perspective on being born with Cerebral Palsy.

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Latest Comments

  • Ivor Steven
    on
    February 19, 2026
    Thank you very much for reading my poem here on CHW magazine. It was a fortuitous ...

    Beyond My Outpost

  • Ivor Steven
    on
    February 19, 2026
    Thank you for reading my poem here at CHW; I appreciate your thoughtful comments, EugiI

    Beyond My Outpost

  • Cheryl Batavia
    on
    February 18, 2026
    Ivor, the photo is perfectly paired with this poem, both reflecting the uncertainties of this era.

    Beyond My Outpost

  • Eugi
    on
    February 18, 2026
    Beautiful said, and excellent rhyming, Ivor. Where do we land where there is peace and light?

    Beyond My Outpost

  • Susi
    on
    November 3, 2025
    Beautiful, Ivor!

    Paddling In Time

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