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A way to prove my death

By: Wesley Ellis
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1: The tree
Pg. 3
Chapter 2: A way to tell Pg.
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Chapter 1: The Tree

7/8/1939

Dear diary:
I have developed a liking to a
tree in my front yard. Father
says it is un-lady like to climb
trees and that I should be for
like mother. But I like to be me
and no matter how long father
wishes I was like mother I will
never be mother. Well I believe
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that is all for now until dusk we

separate.
Elisabeth
I walked into the main room of our tiny little home
where father was reading a novel he had received for his
thirtieth birthday. I walked out of the front door onto our
front porch. The sky was blue, like most summer days
here in Chicago. Just then while I was closing our door
father spoke up, his words bold and strong.
“Elizabeth do not climb up in that tree. It is very old
and could be the death of you. Remember that.”
I closed the door as his words echoed in my head.
Father cared deeply about me, I knew that. It was almost
as it was engraved into my brain. But ever since mother
passed he treated me different. I ignored his words
knowing the tree could hold my weight once again just as
well as the other four times I climbed into it.
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I started to climb into the tree and as I grabbed

a branch to pull myself up I heard a creek. I knew it was
coming from the branch but I was probably pulling down
to hard. I pulled myself up and sat on the branch. The
view from the branch was very wide but as the slight
breeze blew through my hair I enjoyed every minute of it.
Just then I heard another creek. This time it was louder. I
decided I should get off but just then the branch cracked
at its base but I fell off. I had never realized the rock at
the bottom of the tree till now, when it was to late. I
screamed but it was too late. I had cracked my skull open
on the rock. As the blood gushed out the branch finally
snapped and fell on my back and snapped my spinal cord.
Father rushed out and saw the incident. He rushed into
the house to use the rotary phone to call the emergency
services. My sight faded quickly and the last thing I saw
was father scream.
The emergency services arrived and took me to the
hospital. Father knew it was too late but he didn’t speak
at all. He was coming out of the shock. We arrived at the
hospital and took me to a room. I could see every thing,
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my body even, but my eyes were closed. I was not even

breathing. They ran tests and much more but there was
nothing they could do. They told father and father broke
into tears. He was all alone, and I felt guilty for not listing
to his words. To cause some one this much pain made me
miserable.
I watched as father got onto his knees and started to
pray. Tears were still flowing from his eyes, as if it was
running water. It never stopped. Everything grew dark for
a second then I was back at the tree. The branch was
broken and the blood still on the rock but there was a
man who had a cutting device in his hand almost like a
saw. He was staring at the tree and then I saw it. Where
the branch had broken there was half a cut in it. It was
man made for sure and I knew who did it, I just didn’t
know how to tell everyone.
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Chapter 2: A way to tell

I knew who killed me but I had no way to prove it.
One reason was because I was deceased and another
was because it looked completely accidental. The man
sat there just looking at my corpse now chuckling to him
self.
“Just wait, soon I’ll have my money and be the
richest person in Chicago” The man said to himself. He
started to walk away but then pulled out a pair of
scissors and cut of a lock of my hair.
“Just in case,” He said to himself. I decided, well
what I was at the moment, decided to follow him. If I
knew where he was living at the moment it would make
this a lot easier. He started to walk across the street and
into an old house that looked like it hadn’t been tended
to in decades. I looked at the sign at the corner of the
sidewalk. They read Croll Street and St. Park Ave., and
the house number was 4652. I had seen this street
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before. When I went for my daily stroll I walked down

this exact sidewalk and passed this house.
I followed the man into the house. He locked the
door started to use the telephone. I tried to grasp his
hand by my hand passed through his. I tried again
several times and again all my attempts failed.
“Meet me my house at five o clock today, and so
help me god if I’m missing a single penny you’ll end up
just like poor little Elizabeth. Good day.” The man
proclaimed while slamming the phone down back on its
receiver. This was my chance to see who had planned this
horrible murder. After all I was only a thirteen year old
girl how much harm could I do? I followed the man into
his kitchen where he grabbed an alcoholic beverage and
started to gulp it down.
I looked him in his eyes. I could see the pleasure
he was receiving from this. He was happy at the amount
of money he was going to receive. I wasn’t sure how
much it was but I knew it had to be convincing enough to
the point where he would kill a thirtenn year old girl. He
finished his beverage and threw the bottle in the trash
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can. He walked to his room and lay down. He closed his

eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
I walked out of his room and to the front door. I
reached for the door knob but again, my hand passed
through it. I walked slowly through the door and back to
the tree. I walked into our little home and saw that father
had not come home yet