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A name is called from a mysterious spirit. It searches for Janette. Who is she? Where is she? Will she respond?


            A voice coming through the radio whispers the same name over and over.


            The voice sounds tortured and depressed. The emotion of it grows more sad and anxious the more times the name is spoken. This voice…this static it was speaking through was being heard through every radio broadcast across the globe.

            Television stations play the frequency, talking with paranormal teams and investigators, asking if they know who this Janette is and who it is that is calling to her. So far, no one has any answers.


            Radio stations try to shut down the broadcast, but the voice continues to come through without rest. In between speaking the name, the voice lets out gasps and deep, wheezing breaths as if it is being choked while speaking.

            I sit in my room, candles lit around my bed, radio in front of me, listening to this tortured spirit calling out this name. A tear falls down my face the longer I hear this name being called out. He is looking for her. My heart rips in my chest as the name is spoken again.


            He won’t give up; not until she is found. Experts everywhere are searching records for a Janette and the spirit that is calling to her. They can search till the end of time…they will never find her. There are no recordings or texts about Janette. No one knows who she is. No one will ever know who she is.

            The candles burn bright and flow in between the spirit’s whispers. It is as if they are reacting to the voice, trying to respond to the calls.


            Stop calling that name. I can’t stand to hear it anymore. Yet I cannot bear to turn off the radio. More tears escape my eyes as that name is called again. My heart sinks into my stomach as I lean forward, clenching my gut as if I am going to be physically sick. So many emotions…so many memories…they flow through my mind so rapidly. With every memory that I see, more tears flow out of me. I can see the memories in the reflection of those tears. His smile…his touch…his undying love and devotion.

            I was in the brink of despair. No one paid attention to the warning signs; no one…except him.


            My body begins to move on its own. All of the memories I had…all of the tears I had shed, had come to a halt. I had no fear. No regrets. There was nothing left for me. The candles went out once my presence vanished. Darkness surrounded me at first. Then…a light surrounds me.

            A hand guides me. It was his. His silhouette comes into view. He speaks my name again, with relief and love; the way he did long ago. Janette…

            With warmth in my heart, I respond. Chris….


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