Sleeping Silently SLEEPING SILENTLY She was only 16, so sweet and pretty, too young to die. Now her lifeless body lay covered in a black coffin, surrounded by those who knew her best. The minister stood at the foot of her already dug grave, leading the group in prayer. It was Thursday, November 16, the day Eliza Moore was born. The day she was burried. "....please let her soul rest in peace, and bring comfort to her family. In Jesus name, Amen." Amen, I murmered as the minister finished up the ceremony. I stare at the closed coffin, it is covered in an array of fresh flowers. So full of life, so innocent, as Eliza had been. There had been no open casket so that the friends and family of the departed could look once more at her pretty face. No. Her murderer had made sure of that. The strength of the wind burns my eyes, but I refuse to close them. If I did, I know for sure I'd cry. I glance over at Mr. and Mrs. Moore, Eliza's parents. They're trying their best to recieve the condolences from their friends, without breaking down into tears. As they say their good-byes and make their way to their car, I quickly catch up to them. " Excuse me...Mr, Mrs Moore..." The womans' face brightens a bit, "Oh..how are you Robyn? It's so nice of you to come today, Eliza would have really appreciated it."I smile sadly at the mention of her name. "Ya. I really miss her. I'm..so sorry..I know how much you both must miss her." Mr. Moore nods his head, "Yes, she was our only child. Now... we don't have any left. But, she really loved you also. You were such a good friend to her. Thank you, Robyn ." And with that they both climb into their car, and drive away.I turn back to where Eliza was to be burried. I watch sadly as her body is lowered into the earth. I close my eyes and bring in a shuddering breath. I'll find who did this to you Eliza, I swear to you I will. Then we can both rest peacfully. "Please, I need to know!!" I plead with the officer. It was two days after Eliza's funeral, and at the moment I had made a visit to the LAPD station. "Ma'am, we can't let just anyone read our files! They're top secret. Look, I'm sorry about your friend, but there's nothing I can do." I look him up and down, with my cold eyes. He is middle aged, a bit chubby, and obviously didn't do anything but sit behind his cluttered desk all day. I wrinkle my nose in disgust as a glob of his jelly doughnut drips down onto his aged uniform. "Listen to me! This wasn't an accident! She was mudered! Ok? Can't you at least let me talk to someone who worked on her case?" He gives me a look of pity, and my face falls," Was her case even looked at?" He glances at his watch, as though he has more important things to do, but talk to a hysterical 17 year old girl. "It was looked into a bit, and then pretty much discarded as accidental. You'd better leave now, before my sarge' see's me talkin' to you." He rises from his chair obviously bringing our meeting to an end. "Ya, thanks." I mumble.----------------- I make my way to the door when I feel a tap on my shoulder. "Um, excuse me, but I couldn't help over-hearing your conversation. Look, I'm not usually supposed to do this...but, I'd like to help. Now, I'm not promising anything..but I could sneak you into the archives for a peek." A young woman, probably no more than thirty, stands before me. She looks much sharper than the idiot who turned me down earlier."Really! Wow, that'd be great. I can't get much help from anyone else around here!" She leads me to a small room near the back, it looks as though it doesn't get much action, and has been partially used as storage over the years. She points to a computer," That's where you should be able to find what your looking for. Hopefully there's more to the case than officer 'Dan was letting on. Actually he probably woudn't know anyways, he never gets anywhere near anything besides auto-theft cases.By the way, my names Lynda Johnson. " She says stretching out her hand for me to shake. I smile, relieved by her friendliness," My names Robyn Perne. About how long do you think it'll take for you to pull up some information for what I'm looking for?" I ask, nodding toward the monitor." Oh, not too long, now what's u'r friend's name?" she asked, her hands hovering over the keyboard. "Moore, Eliza Moore." I say, watching as she types it in. A short report, barely two paragraphs, pops up onto the screen. Notes made by the coroner who had examined the body. "The man's name is Denver Donson' in case you want to know. It says here that he was the only one to examine the body. But, he didn't do a full autopsy on it. I'm guessing it was a pretty gruesome sight." Lynda frowns, and shakes her head." There's not much." I quickly scan it for myself. " He didn't even complete a full examination? I thought he had too." Lynda shrugs, " The police, along with Eliza's parent's, had no reason not to believe that the body belonged to your friend.So...'Donson just tagged the body with the name Eliza Moore and sent it on it's merry way. Look, here's a report from Detective George Bruns. He's the man who over-saw the investigation."Another page, longer than the first, appears on the screen. "A report from a neighbor states that around 8:30, the night Eliza died, a dark-colored jeep pulled into her drive-way. Now, her parents were gone at that time, right?" Lynda asked, glancing over the document. I nod, "Ya, they had a family get together down in Santa Monica. They had left at 3:00 that afternoon,...and didn't get back 'till the following morning." Lynda points to a statement made by Detective Bruns, "He pointed out that if this person had wanted to kill Eliza, that they had come at a very convenient time. You'd think that only someone who knew her would have known her parents were out of town. But, considering that the case was ruled as accidental this evidence was just thrown out." She scrolled down the page wordlessly. "Supposedly the fire in the fireplace got out of contol, while your friend was in another room. Her body was found on the second floor, she was trapped and well, you know the rest." I nod, hopefully she was dead before the fire reached the propane tank, I think to myself. "But, you didn't know Eliza the way I knew her. She had an incredible fear of fires. She would of had to light that fire herself, and that's one thing she would never had done. She couldn't even look at a book of matches without freaking out! Besides, the Moore's had fire alarms stationed everywhere in the house, to help ease Eliza's fear. Don't you think it's a bit odd that not one of them warned her in the least?"Lynda nods her head slowly, picking up on my theory." Yes....and the fire broke out at close to 8:50, is it a coincedence that she had a visitor only twenty minutes beforehand?"I run a shaking hand through my hair, and glance at my watch."Hopefully this all adds up to something. But, for now I'd better go. I told my parents I was going to the store. Thanks so much for your help." She stands and hugs me reassuringly. I leave the station and quickly find my car in the filled parking lot. Within 7 min I'm home, and in the door. "Oh, hi sweetheart. You've got some mail for you on the table there." My mother says, busy fixing dinner in the kitchen. I nod my hellos' to her and grab a fresh baked cookie from the plate on the counter. I sit down at the table, and sort through my mail. I smile when I see a letter from my aunt in Florida, but then my smile falters when I see a stange looking envelope. It is smaller than the rest, and is unmistakenly blood red. In small neat print on the front I see my name. But, that is all. My address is missing, along with a stamp. Obviously this must have been personally delivered by the creator. Of course my curiosity gets the better of me. I slowly tear into the seal of the envelope. Carefully, as though the action of doing so might trigger a bomb. I pull out a plain white piece of paper, folded over twice. I'm in no rush to read it; but I unfold it anyways. My dear Robyn, Life---so fragile;so tragic;so easily stolen. But,I'm sure you are fully aware of this. Now is the time for all lies to end; and all truths to begin. Listen closely; listen good. I know of whom you search. For I know many things; secrets; broken promises; things that are to come. If you wish to know as well you will do what I say. Meet me inside the old warehouse, where you and your friends used to play, on the witching hour. A place so secluded; no one can hear your screams. Come alone;bring nothing. I am no threat to you;physically or mentally. I only wish to help. I give you my word that I will also come alone; I mean you no harm. Forever yours, The Messenger I begin to tremble, inside-out. The thought of knowing the truth is so tempting, I crave it above all else. But, for this.....person to pick such circumstances is incredibly strange. Of course, I have my doubts; my fears. No sane person would purposely put themself into a dangerous situation, such as the one I am asked to be in. I nibble my bottom lip, the stress is building so fast. I glance at my mother; she has no clue what her daughter is thinking, what's inside my head. I look back at the letter. What's also strange is that this person must know personal things about me. He, assuming it isn't a woman, knows where I used to play after school when I was younger. This thought is eerie, as well as soothing. They state in the letter that they know many things; I can't help but hope that it is true, while at the same time hoping it isn't. I pull out a picture from my wallet. It is of both Eliza and me, from a school dance the year before. She had been blessed with natural beauty, causing jealousy-even from myself. Eliza had started school when she was only four; therefore causing her to be able to graduate when she was only 16. Graduation; it was only four weeks off. We had both been looking forward to it so much. But, aside from being beautiful, Eliza had also been exceptionaly smart. We had competed for grades ever since we were little, but in the end I had been beaten. Both of us had applied to go to Harvard; the greatest of all law schools; but Eliza had been picked. She had taken the last open posistion. Of course this had made me extremely jealous. All throughout our lives Eliza had stolen my boyfriends, and the future I wanted. But, I had kept all my anger bottled up. After all, she had been my best friend. A red dot appears on the piece of paper that I hold in my left hand. I realize I have bit my lip. I sigh, and methodically rub my temples. I wish this day had never come to me--but it has. And I have two options. Which will I choose? I shiver as another breeze blows accross my already chilled face. I stand before the old; forgotten warehouse. It is dark; midnight; the witching hour. I glance around nervously; I can't see much more than five feet in front of me. It is cold; no warmer than twenty degrees out. I see my breath as I slowly let go of the air in my lungs, it causes a mist-like barrier to form in front of my face. Finally, I manage the courage to step inside. It is a bit warmer; but not much. I don't feel any safer, not at all, I now feel trapped. I want so bad to leave this place, to return to saftey. But I can't. Destiny won't allow it. Something holds me here. I silently curse my overactive curiosity. I move deeper into the darkness, farther from the door; from escape. "I knew you'd come." The suddeness of the voice startles me and I take a step back. I see no-one." You made the right choice, by coming here I mean." A figure steps from the shadows. I narrow my eyes to make out the features; but am unable to do so. As I stare at the person, the voice indicates male, it is as though he is transparent. I can see through him, as though he is only the shadow of a man. I move closer, and the illusion is gone. I clear my throat, the cold has made my voice coarse." Who are you...what can you tell me?" His voice takes on a distant tone, " I can tell you many things, some good--some evil. But of what you are seeking...I can tell you everything." I nod my head slowly, " I might as well get to the point...who killed my friend? Was it someone I know? I'm guessing it is." He smiles, although I don't see him do so, I simply feel it's warmth, it's coldness. I feel no fear from this person, although I should under the circumstances. " To answer your second question...yes it is someone you know. Very well actually. And to answer your first...you know who took her life. You have known from the start; though you don't realize it." I am honestly puzzled. I do not know. If I had I wouldn't be here in the first place. I have no memory of ever knowing. He seems to read my thoughts. " As someone once said... a wise man knows alot...but says little. A fool knows little...but says too much. Listen to your heart, not your mind. The mind...it can be so easily manipulated; and tampered with. But the heart..it is more loyal, it is much harder to toy with. Look into your heart Robyn...there you will find your answer." I do as he says, might as well give it a go. I must admit...I somehow feel as though I know something..something my mind won't let me see. Or perhaps...he has put the idea into my head.I shrug. " If what you say is true...I'll need your help to find the answer. For, a person's heart has no memory, only emotions. I do feel as though I know something...but I can't sort it out." I gesture helplessly. " Alright. I'll tell you who killed your friend. But you must also know that they will kill again. What would you truthfully like to do to this person..if given the chance?" I smile wickedly," I would like to kill them. They deserve it, and should have no say in the matter. After all, did Eliza get to decide whether she should be "blessed" with her unfair death?" My answer seems to surprise him, " You speak strongly, very set in your ways. Very well, I'll let you play God for the day." He removes something from his coat pocket. It shines as it catches the moon-light. A revolver, I'm guessing it's loaded. I am instantly alarm. But he doesn't hold it as though he is trying to aim. He lets it lay flat in his right palm. " I'll let you decide their fate. Do you still want to take their life? It's not as easy as it seems." I know he's right, but it's not as though I haven't fired a gun before. All those summers hunting with my father are worth something. " I made a promise to Eliza, as well as to myself. I want them dead, and I'm going to be the one who pulls the trigger." He steps closer and places the gun at my feet. I stare at it, a million thoughts run through my mind right then. A million emotions run through my heart. I slowly pick it up and examine it's contents. I was right, it is loaded, all six bullets in place. " Well...where is this person. I would like to get this done quickly." He stares at me, warmth and regret radiate from his eyes. I shift uncomfortably, and suddenly feel as though I'm being watched by someone other than this messenger. Perhaps I am. The thought chills me. " I'm looking at her." I stop; literally. I believe I was clinically dead for at least five seconds. "What?" The word comes out forced, painfully. " He lowers his head." You took her life. It was you who visited her that night. She had no reason to fear you; this you were aware of. You had one thing right though; it wasn't an accident....it was murder." I shake my head,"NO! It wasn't me! How dare you accuse me of killing my best friend.! I don't have a single memory of doing anything to her. Or maybe I did it in my sleep, is that it!"I spat out the words quickly, like bullets from the gun I hold. " Robyn, do you have any memory of that night?" I open my mouth to defend myself, but stop. I realize he's right. I can't remember a single detail. But, I shake my head stubbornly, I'm not going to let his words destroy me."The trauma of killing your best friend was too great for you. So, you blocked it from your memory. You killed her because....because you were jealous." Something wet trickles down my cheek, I realize that I am starting to remember. To remember everything. "Jealous of what?" I feel pity in his gaze," Because you were jealous of her achievments. You thought she was always better, to you it was a race, you had to win no matter what. You sacrificed her life, so that you could have what you desired." The memories come back in a rush. I close my eyes tightly, trying to block them. But they come anyways. I remember pulling up at her house and going inside. She was happy to see me; not knowing her life would end that night. When she went into her bedroom, I locked her in. Then I disassembled the alarms....and lit the match. I remember watching as the flame burned it's way down, almost burning my trembling fingers. I also remember the screams, the pleads and cries. But I ignored them. And left the house in ruins. I left lives in ruins. And until now, had no memory of ever doing so. My jealously had gotten the better of me, and had taken the life of an innocent. I open my eyes, and stare down at the gun. The man nods sadly. "I...I know what I must do. But..it's so hard. You told me I'd kill again...are you sure?" I don't need to ask, I know the answer. This man doesn't lie." Yes, I'm afraid so. I also know what you wish to ask me. You want me to kill you, but I can't. I will not have blood on my hands. I am only the messenger. I don't do the deeds." I open my mouth, wide. With my shaking hand I place the barrel of the revolver inside. The coldness of the metal reminds me of how real everything is. I regret ahead of time what I must do, but I can't let a murderess run lose. Destiny won't allow it. At that moment the world stops turning, at least for Robyn Perne, it does. I pull the trigger. The shot is heard by no-one. Even if it was, it would have been chalked up to the imagination. The mind does like to play tricks on you, espeically when you are most vulnerable.
Copyright © 2002 G Donely |