"Pretty girls like you get lost in these woods all the time, Alexa."
On the night of Sebastián's annual Beginning of Summer Bash, amiable and adventurous Melody Tryniski went missing. What might have appeared as a juvenile escapade - a casual incide...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"WHAT IS THIS SHIT?" Logan says, slapping the newspaper in his grip with the back of his free hand.
Shaw's Diner is crowded today, abuzz with conversations about Melody's murder and filled with eyes that can only seem to gaze in our direction. Our booth is the complete opposite - there's a deafening silence looming over us, a desperate quietness waiting for an explanation. It's a pause, three suspensive dots making us an ellipsis. Time stands still in this small booth, our presence a clear picture among the hazy colors composing the rest of our small town. We're the center of all the commotion and they're all sidelines, looking from the outside of pain.
Nari sits next to Logan, peering over his shoulder to read the article. I'm guessing that her frown deepens as soon as she reads her mother's name, the sole creator and composer of this gruesome piece. Micah is beside her, his glasses resting on the tip of his nose as he reads along. His fair face alters from pink and red hues to green-like ones, almost a visual representation of the disgust brewing inside of him. Sebastián reads along with me, his eyes trying to focus on the shaking newspaper in my grip. When he's had enough of the details, he falls back on the seat with a tired sigh.
All around us, the noise intensifies with different conversations taking place at once and the clashing of porcelain enamel. Among all these noises, there's the faint sound of a television blasting in the background, repeating Melody's nine-one-one transcript over and over again. It's a broken disc of sorrow and fear, the sound that reawakens my memories.
I guess I'm scared.
Scared of death. What happens after it?
Her voice is a tremble in the air, a weak breath fighting to be heard. My chest tightens at the sound of it; it swells with an unbearable pain, my heart beating slowly as if it's about to burst. It gives low pumps for each breath I take, every sharp inhale of air that pierces through my lungs. Then the memory comes, stopping the pumping of blood for the briefest of seconds - enough to knock the air out of me.
While she was calling for help, struggling to keep her composure with a killer lurking in her house, I was in Views, searching for the perfect snacks to bring to our sleepover. I remember struggling between picking the Jolly Ranger bites bag and the king-size bag of Reese's Pieces, before buying both of them. While I was wasting my time on such a trivial matter, Melody was fighting for her life. I wasn't there for her - I never was.
The pain settling in my heart goes numb, as well as the rest of my body. The tears burn in the back of my eyes, but the numbness doesn't allow for them to find a release. Guilt claws at my insides, shredding and shredding until all my secrets are in full display, resting on the tip of my tongue to set loose. What kind of friend am I?
