"As I'm sure everyone is aware, the events that occurred on the football field during the graduation ceremony are being investigated," Chief Iyer stands before us, reading the report from the steps of the town hall.
My parents and I are standing alongside countless other families as we await news of what went down. For a June morning, it's quite chilly. But despite the below average temperatures, the town has come out of the woodworks. Everyone and their mother is literally here. I look around and see many familiar faces, way more than I thought I would after school ended. Jake notices me and gives me a small smile and the slightest wave as if to ask if I'm okay. I nod and return the gesture. His smile grows a bit as if he's happy for me.
Jake is an interesting guy. He was just barely dating Molly at the time of her disappearance, sorry death. (My therapist still tells me I have to face it for what it is, she died. Two years ago. And I have to get over it.) They were always close. They did drama and debate team together and became really close. I knew him a bit, but he always seemed more interested in her than me. Which I understood. I wasn't that interested in him anyway, not like that at least. Jake redirects his attention to Iyer. And I realize I should do the same.
"We thank those who have come forward, but still urge others," he looks around at the grim faces, "to bring forward, any bit and every bit of information they can think of to help us solve the case." He pauses. "After speaking with her doctors, we can confirm that Christina Gates is stable and in recovery after her episode at the ceremony. However, her memory has not come back yet. We also extend the invite to share information to anyone close to her who may have known where she was before the ceremony. This town is a community and we will overcome this, but we need your help."
He pauses. The small crowd of the media explodes into a frenzy of questions. I hear fragments of their curiosity stand out.
"Do you know-"
"What about the-"
"Body-"
"Died?"
My dad moves closer to my mom and me. He slips his hand into mine and puts a hand on my mom's shoulder. He knows this is hard for me to watch.
"Who was she ho-"
Chief Iyer raises his hand. "Please, please. One at a time and I will answer as many questions as I can." He begs.
The HUB news anchor raises her hand.
"Yes, Cynthia, please?"
"Thank you Chief." She raises her microphone to her mouth. "Have you identified the body yet?"
As soon as she finishes her sentence, the other reporters resort to their blurting of questions. The general public, waits. Stoic. Unmoving. For an answer. Chief Iyer collects himself. He takes a deep breath and looks back up to the people.
"Yes."
The reports are fueled by this information. They press closer to the steps. The other police officers step forward, an attempt to keep them at bay.
"Please. Please, ladies and gentlemen, one at a time."
A reporter sporting a blue cap raises his hand. It's John Riley from the county paper. He usually covers carnivals and Halloween parades. This is a new topic, nonetheless, a new genre all together for him.
"Can you release the identity?"
Iyer takes another deep breath. I feel uneasy knowing that this is difficult for him to talk about. He's always a rock for everyone. He always handles things with confidence and a calmness that puts everyone else at ease. Not that we've dealt with things like this before, aside from Molly, but he was strong during that for those of us who weren't. And I was thankful. Now I just worry.
And worry.
And then the panic rises and my breathing shallows and it's all too much for me to take I can't breathe I can't feel my face I panic and panic and panic and panic and-
My dad gives my hand a double squeeze and my pulse slows. And oxygen fills my lungs once more. And I can see. And I can hear. And I can be.
I lean into him.
"Thank you, Daddy," I whisper. He plants a kiss on my forehead.
"Yes," I hear Iyer say, snapping me back into the situation at hand. We all immediately turn our attention. Waiting. Iyer lets a moment pass and I don't think it's for dramatic effect. He's physically having a hard time with this. He looks up for a moment and makes long and purposeful eye contact with someone. I glance behind me to see that that person is Jake. I take a sharp breath in.
"The body has been identified as Molly Gates. That's all the information we have at this time." He closes his notebook and re-enters town hall.
***FLASHBACK***
The door to my therapist's office closes behind me. The second it slams I turn around. The force I use to swing it back open surprises even me. She jumps a little, her tufts of white hair falling over her part wrong.
"Scarlett? Have you forgotten something?" She asks innocently.
I shake my head, determined. "No, but you have."
She squints her eyes at me and cocks her damn head. "I don't think I follow."
I set my shoulders. "I know you think I'm in denial and I know you think you're right, but you're not. Molly isn't dead. They never found a body. We're burying an empty casket at the funeral. She's not inside. Until she's physically in the ground, she's. NOT. GONE."
The therapist hangs her head. "I know you're suffering and that's okay, but you cannot torture yourself like this."
I shake my head, willing myself not to cry. "And you can't say someone's dead unless they're really dead."
I slam the door on my way out.
***PRESENT***
"And now she's really dead." It's barely a whisper. I feel the air leave my body.
All this time, I think. All this time she was lost somewhere. Alive. And no one did anything. We just gave up.
"Let's get her home," I hear my mom say. My mind is fogging again. I feel another attack creeping on. I shake my head. My parents each take an arm and try to guide me towards the car, but I fight them off.
"Scar-"
"No!"
"Honey, please, let's just go home."
I shrug them away from me a little more forcefully. My dad's grip tightens on me.
"Please."
He begs me with his eyes. And I break. The tears come freely. My body shakes. I feel every single cell in my body explode. My legs give out. I fall to the side, only to be caught by my mom. A depressing electricity rips through my body, destroying everything in its path. I let out a yell.
I know people are looking at me now. Heads are turning. Scarlett Hirsch, having yet another meltdown in front of everyone's very eyes. Who would've thought.
I let my parents push me towards the car.
"I can't wait to get far away from this place," I say as they help me into the backseat.
"I know honey," my mom smiles, but her eyes are sad.
My head falls. I hate when people look at me like that, though it happens a lot, and I'm still not used to it.
As my parents climb into the front seats, I look out the window. Jake is sitting on the curb, his head in his hands. His family stands a little off to the side, as if they're unsure how to comfort him. He looks up for a moment and I make eye contact with him and offer the same smile he offered me earlier.
He doesn't smile back. I feel the glimmer of hope I had disappear. We're not okay. We're alone. She's gone.
My parents turn the car on and exit the parking lot. I stare blankly ahead. That's all I can do now. Go to college. Get out of this town. Never return.
Never.
Look.
Back.
