The Day They Disappeared

Chapter 13

3:34. That's what my cracked plastic watch read. I'd been digging through every newspaper since July of 1985. I'd read every article, watched every news report, and looked over every obituary five times over. Things weren't adding up. I so desperately wanted to be wrong but everything was becoming so much clearer every time I re-read the information in front of my eyes.

I was sick of these dangerous runaround games with Ali. I need to know what's happening and I need to know now. I couldn't spend the next year or however long hiding out in the backyard of Brian Wells and waiting for another person I know to end up murdered.

I hesitantly looked over my list of "clues" again.

Amanda was found without her blue bow. Lacey was found without her golden chain bracelet. This was the killer's first strike. They were clearly new to the game and didn't know what to do. The two girls were beaten to death with what seemed to be a large rock, by far the most brutal of the murders. Maybe the killer was intrigued by the beauty of such simple childish items. Those were the first souvenirs. Maybe that's why every person afterwards was missing something, because the killer liked having a reminder of the kill and was intrigued by the unique objects every child had.

Isabella was found after Danielle but she was reported as being murdered before Danielle. Isabella was the only colored girl murdered. In an article about her death it was noted that she kept her house key on a dainty chain around her neck. When found, Isabella did not have the house key on her anywhere. It was apparently painted with sparkly blue nail polish. I assume whoever killed Isabella took the key as another souvenir. Danielle was missing her special 'D' necklace. Danielle and Isabella were both strangled to death unlike Amanda and Lacey.

Inez, the most recent victim in the string of murders apparently never left the house without her sparkly pink beaded Hello Kitty bracelet. A news article regarding her death mentioned her love for the cartoon character more than a few times and also noted how the bracelet was missing. It was a gift from her brother for her 12 birthday. Inez was also strangled to death.

And then there's Lucas, the only male to be murdered. Also the oldest of the group. Lucas was missing his favorite Darth Vader watch and he had his finger sliced off and thrown in the sandbox carelessly. The missing finger was a tad bit brutal but it was the killer's third time and I think they were figuring out what they liked, as sick as that sounds. Lucas' murder was also more brutal than strangulation but not as brutal as being beat to death with a rock. He suffered from a severe blow to the head which officials say would have knocked him unconscious almost immediately. After that he was strangled with a rope, which was found close to his body at the crime scene. The object used to knock him unconscious was said to be a piece of heavy wood but it was never discovered.

I set the sheet of paper on the floor and shut my eyes tightly. I was picturing every little detail from the day I found my sister on our back porch. She was in the old white lawn chair we left sitting out all year round. The same lawn chair that was definitely not mentioned in any article or news cast about her death. I'd know that since I read everything five or six times over. She smelled of death and lilac. We didn't have lilacs in our yard. My mom hated the smell of lilac candles, perfume, anything lilac but I loved it.

My brain then switched over to remembering every detail about my best friend. I was always upset. Every time he was brought up I felt the tears stinging my eyes. Every time I thought of him I could feel pains in my chest. He loved Star Wars, everyone knew that. Even if you didn't know anything about Star Wars or Lucas you just knew that he liked the guy in the black robe and helmet. That was just common knowledge. Why him? He doesn't fit the profile. Everyone else was young, female, and small for their age. Lucas was not any of that, except maybe slightly small for his age.

Even with my eyes squeezed shut, tears escaped. I opened my eyes and looked at my broken watch. 3:40. My tear-filled eyes scanned the papers surrounding me again and again. In my head I was praying to whatever God there is that this wasn't real. In my heart I had hope but in my mind I was sure of the answer.

I stood up slowly and stumbled to the bathroom where I shut the door as silently as I could but it creaked as I shut it. Old houses make funny noises. I stared at my teary-eyed reflection in the mirror. It added up. It all added up. I continued to stare intensely at my reflection. I took in every aspect of myself.

The longer I stared the more I started to look like a stranger. My normally dark brown hair seemed like the wrong shade. It was more of a chocolate brown. My usually bright eyes seemed dark and menacing. I had always perceived myself as scrawny and weak but under the harsh light and through my teary eyes I could have sworn I looked fairly capable of overcoming somebody. The person staring back at me in the mirror looked more like a monster than a human being. I forced myself to turn away and reach for the door handle.

I needed to know.

I needed to know the truth.