Talking

A normal day, as they go right now.

When I got home from work today, Marie and I talked a bit, going over the research and information-gathering she'd roped me into doing. She had this to say about my earlier outright denial of our current circumstances. "Things like that don't happen here? Just like this isn't the kind of town where tornadoes hit high schools and destroy the school and student body" ... I couldn't argue that. I just couldn't. I graduated the year before that incident and was off at college when that happened, but I can't argue that it wasn't a catastrophic event that nobody saw coming in a town like this. Terrible things do happen, even in places like this. It was a bit blunt of her to put it that way, but it did knock a little sense into me.

I guess you just never want to believe it could or would happen. Denial doesn't help anyone, though.

She still won't tell me exactly why she wanted me to find these things out for her, but I have my suspicions, especially considering the fact that the conversation once again turned to her brother. Tangents are always fun. She misses him still. Marie was  eleven when Jared went missing. I know I call her a kid a bit too often, but in a way, I still sometimes see her as one. Mostly because we've become so close since I moved back into town. It's almost like having a sibling, I guess. A skinny, black-haired, taller than me sibling.

Marie gets this look in her eyes every time her brother comes up in conversations, though. Like something inside of her is being worn away. She thinks her parents could have done more to try and find him, and maybe they could have. It's been over five years and there's been no sign or word from him. I don't think he's listed in any Missing Persons database, though I could be wrong... It just feels at times like his parents are trying to forget about him.

Maybe they're deeper in denial than I am.

Girly's been saying some weird stuff recently, though. When we were talking about Jared, she said something about him "sacrificing everything". Maybe she knows more than she says about what happened. And yes, I know she's going to read this, but honestly, this is important as well as the information gathering and "learning from others".

I went through the envelope the Crispy Critter left on my porch, and there's a few things in there. I'm working on piecing together one of the pieces of paper, which was ripped up. the other is just a bit, um, creepy. It looks like a drawing done in crayon by a kid with the words "WHY IS MOMMY CRYING?" on it. I'll try to fiddle with the scanner and get it posted later.

They're out there. I know it mostly because someone followed me to work today. I know car-fu, buddy. And mine is bigger than yours. Vehicle that is. I don't have one of -those-. Um, anyway. /bravado