Lochby

Chapter 1: Just the Beginning

"Someone call the sheriff!"

"Is she alright?"

"I don't think so. Somebody should check her pulse."

"You shouldn't go around poking at a lifeless body."

"This lifeless body needs help which won't arrive for another ten minutes. I'll only check her pulse to see if she's okay."

"I saw in a movie that you shouldn't move the body."

The stranger brushed the girl's long hair back and searched for a sign of life. With his fingers on the side of her neck, he found nothing. There was no beat. In denial, he moved to her left wrist. There it was: a pulse as faint as the smell of roses in a bustling restaurant. A sense receptor so strong was being dominated and hushed.

"I think she's dead!"

"No, Fiona, she's still with us. Her pulse is weak, but she can pull through. I'm sure of it. She's too young to die. The doctors can help her."

The town of Lochby soon changed after this.

On the edge of Arizona, was a lively, little town filled with youth, old souls, and memories. In the summer, the water that was once dried out, would burst out of the ground, as if it had been waiting all this time. The sporadic wind would break the silence of not yet commenced conversations. Trees, bushes, and cacti had all blossomed the past season and were ready to wither. The dusty sand became less so as the kids scurried from lake to land. The heat burned anyone who wasn't prepared for Arizona's summer weather. It was a beautiful time of year. Each summer was special in Lochby, especially this one.

The population of the miniature city was 245 citizens whose lives belonged to the town. Anyone who was born here stayed in Lochby. Anyone who moved here never left. No one left because no one wanted to. The town had everything any other town needed and lacked what they needed to rid themselves of. Callousness. Animosity. Greed. In Lochby, there were no complications, no altercations, no miscommunications.

On the outskirts of the town were farms that the town shared as a community. In the center, a town hall hosted meetings every other Tuesday to discuss the usual trivial topics. To the east, a congregation of lovely residents, in their identical homes, were enjoying their air-conditioned rooms. To the west were the local shops and markets that always seemed to have what you were looking for. Everything seemed perfect in Lochby, that is, before the incident.

An ambulance raced to the nearest hospital, St. Michael's. Once they arrived, they jumped out of the vehicle and greeted the nurses who were waiting to transport the patient. A gurney carrying the young girl rushed to the emergency room. Nurses scurried out of the way as three people paced themselves with the wobbly cart and its quiet forsaken wheel.

"Any ID?" asked the nurse.

"None, but it's a kid, so someone must be able to identify her. The paramedics found her in the middle of the road like this. There was no driver in sight; this was most likely a hit-and-run," proclaimed the second doctor.

"In Lochby? Who would do such a thing? I wonder how long this girl was truly out there," the third doctor questioned.

"I'm not sure," said the second doctor, "but this girl has been subjected to major force. The car had to have been going well over our speed limits. We need all the luck we can get with this one."

The doctors began immediately. They weren't sure what they were dealing with yet. They only knew it was killing her. After the first incision, they knew. The girl wasn't going to make it.

Nonetheless, they tried to stop the internal bleeding as to take control of the situation. Even without a scan or x-ray, they knew that she most likely had a concussion, broken bones, and fractures all over her body. Soon the room grew quiet. They all looked at each other and then back at the girl as the beeps turned to a single noise. No one wanted to speak, but they all knew what was next.