I wish I knew the reason why they were so brutally murdered, but their case was never officially solved. It is as if death and gore just swept right through our home, leaving no helpful clues or reasoning behind. I still cannot erase the whole thing from my nightmares, and I have the same dream almost every night.
There wasn’t much left in the home to connect me to my parent’s pasts or to help me figure out why someone would want to hurt them. All I did know was that my mom was born and raised in a place called Jacksonville, Oregon, and that I have no surviving relatives. I have always wished to learn more about my parents, but out of respect to my wonderful adoptive mother, I tried to enjoy where life had placed me and learned to love the family I do have.
I graduated from high school this spring and decided to finally get some long-awaited answers. Luckily for me, I don’t have to do it all alone. Kassy has heard me talk about the few memories I have of my parents for as long as she has known me. She always told me that I need to find out all I can about them if just to settle my nightmares and get some closure.
That is what has brought us here, to the little old town of Jacksonville, with a population of 2,800 residents. We were able to rent a small old pool house from the Henderson’s, a sweet elderly couple that welcomed the extra money. The pool is nice, but we are definitely going to have to put some work into our new home. Even though it is a huge adjustment from our big city lives, there is something about the town that makes me feel energized and gives me a euphoria of finally feeling as if I have found my true home.
As I sit at the kitchen island with my glass of chocolate milk, my mind replays the awful nightmare for the thousandth time. I rub absently at my temple, wishing I could go without reliving the worst day of my life every time I fall asleep. Kassy comes out of her room, interrupting my early morning headache, wearing her fuzzy pink pajama bottoms and ‘Kiss Me, I’m Irish’ T-shirt, and looking like the walking dead.
I sip at my drink. “Sleepwalking?” I ask, amused.
“I heard you out here and thought I’d come to distract you from thinking about you-know-what.” she mumbles with her eyes still half-closed. She stretches with a big yawn and braces herself against the countertop to keep from falling to the tiled floor. Kassy has never been much of a morning person.
I giggle at her messy pile of cocoa-brown hair and splashes of light freckles across her pale cheeks. She is the epitome of the sweet southern darling, even though her parents raised her in the city. Her father even has a strong southern drawl, having grown up in Texas. Kassy absolutely has her father’s looks but she is small like her mother, making her seem more unassuming than she is in reality.
“So, do you want some company or not?” she barks at me, eyes still half-closed. I nod to her before she continues. “I guess I should get used to waking up early if I plan on making my 8 AM Spanish class on Monday.” She claps her hands together in mock excitement.
I roll my brown eyes at her. “Hey, I didn’t make you take Spanish. I blame you completely.”
“I thought being fluent in a foreign language would make me all exotic.” She groans and flips her hair behind her shoulder. “Instead, it’s just going to make me tired, but not too tired for partying!”
“Kass, are you really going to make me go to this College party tonight?” The thought of being thrown in the middle of a bunch of gyrating 18-year-olds makes my stomach do a nervous flip.
“Of course, I am!”
“But I really do think I may be coming down with something,” I say, making my voice come out sickly and throwing in a fake cough for good measure.
“Aella Mae Lundon! Do not fake cough at me! We are going to this party together. I am not going to be stuck in this house for the rest of the year because we missed out on meeting new people.” She shoots the words at me with her hands planted on her fuzzy pajama hips. “This party is supposed to be the party for incoming freshmen to mingle and have fun before we have to submit ourselves into a studying death!” That’s Kassy, always with the dramatics.
I hold my hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay! I know not to argue with you when you start throwing the middle name out.”
She jumps up and down like a little kid who just got promised a lollipop. “Ooh! I am so excited! Let’s eat something so we can start getting ready!”
“Kassy, it is 7 o’clock in the morning. I am going to have breakfast and then I am going to take a nap so I can get rid of these bags under my eyes. Then, after that, we can go shopping for the party and I will let you pick out my outfit.”
She holds her hand out to me to shake, “Deal! I’ll get breakfast cooking while you go take a shower, cause you stink.” She winks at me and I throw my crumpled-up napkin at her on my way to the bathroom.
I’m still shaking my head at her when I shut the bathroom door behind me, and my mind is painlessly plucked like the strings on a guitar. My body slips to the cool tiled floor and I hold my head in my hands, while my dark brown hair spills around my arms, surrounding me. Come on, not now. Like slow molasses, my body feels increasingly heavy and then turns light as a feather, as
