Haley Thistle
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Ghost Story: When We Leave the Diner (special preview)
🕑 Added 2020-10-06 21:00:02 +0000 UTCMy mother never knew she was adopted until she got sick. Her parents never told her, and when she needed a donor, no one on her side of the family was able. After some digging, we found the records from her adoption. My mom decided not to push the issue, it was bad enough she was sick and living with less time. Her parents must have not told her for a reason, she argued, so she wasn’t going to go against their wishes.
I, on the other hand, decided to figure out my mother’s past. I started tracking my grandparent’s records, finding places they had been around the time of my mother’s birth. Her birth certificate was a duplicate, one she got from the courthouse ages ago. With some help from my aunt, I was able to find the real birth certificate. It listed the doctor who birthed her, as well as the state she was born in, which, due to the adoption process, wasn’t listed on the duplicate my mother had.
When she finally passed away, my mother’s final wishes were to be cremated and her ashes to be spread at sea. I took on the trip myself, deciding, before I released her ashes, to visit the town where she was born.
During my first day of the trip, I went as far as I could stand then stopped at a small roadside cafe called ‘The Dead End Eatery’. The walls of the place were covered by framed news article clippings. Each one seemed random until I started realizing they all had to do with death.
“Top off your coffee, ma’am?” The waitress asks.
I nod then point to the wall. “What’s with all the-” I wag my finger around, hesitating to say the word.
“All the death?” The waitress seems absolutely chipper about it.
I nod. “Yeah. That.”
“Gotta have a gimmick,” she states simply. “Back when this place was built, it really was a Dead End until they blasted a road through. So ‘dead end’ needed to mean something.” She stares out the window with a nostalgic gleam to her eye. “After that, what with the sharp curve and rock, a lot of deaths started happening around here.”
I grimace a bit. “Don’t you find that kind of macabre?”
She shrugs. “I’m used to it. Besides, who is going to remember these people after a while?” She gazes back at the clipped articles hanging on the wall. “A lot of the faces you see here are just kids. After their families are gone, where do they go?”
Furrowing my brow, I look from the coffee to her. “What do you mean?”
A stony look comes to her face, and her eyes almost seem blank. “Lots of stories around her, old ones. They say the land here is cursed, and anyone who dies before their time is trapped here.”
“Like ghosts?”
Her sunny disposition returns. “Yup! Anything else I can get you?”
I shake my head. “No. That haunting tale will be enough.”
Her smile grows. “I have many more if you’re not in a hurry.”
“I’ve had enough death for today.”
The waitress goes on and I slouch down at the table, sighing heavily as I glance back to the wall. My phone rings and I see it’s my daughter.
“Hey sweetie, how is everything?”
“Fine, but you’re going to have to pay me for babysitting Mom, she keeps trying to repair things while you’re gone.”
“Sorry about that. I’ll be home soon. But it’s funny you call, I’m at the strangest little place.” I glance back up to the wall. “It’s this little diner with tons of news clippings about horrible deaths and accidents all over the wall.”
“Can I see?” She asks excitedly. “Take a picture.”
