The night before the test, I found his body hanging in the closet, and on the floor there were his footprints that led all the way back to his wheelchair. I was filled with dread as I realized what had happened. My son had taken his own life rather than face the accusations against him.
I was determined to prove my son’s innocence, so I decided to take the test in his place. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
When I arrived at the testing center, I was met with a group of people who were all wearing masks. I was told that the test was to prove my son’s innocence, but the atmosphere was anything but reassuring.
The test began and I could feel a chill in the air. As I answered the questions, I felt a presence beside me, like someone was watching me. I felt a cold hand on my shoulder and heard a voice whisper in my ear, “Your son was innocent. You must prove it.”
I was terrified and began to scream, but no one could hear me. The presence continued to follow me as I finished the test, and I could feel its icy breath on my neck.
When I returned home, I was relieved to find that the presence had left me. But the memory of it still haunts me. I can only hope that my son’s spirit is now at peace, and that his innocence will be proven to the world.