My Sister is Missing

by Carissa Ann Lynch

  ‘What are you doing?’ she shouted. Her hands were up, a pleading gesture. ‘Please don’t hurt me,’ she said, her eyes wide and frightened.

  ‘Hurt you? What do you think I’m going to do – smother you with a pillow?!’

  Jessica’s face contorted and even though it was dark, I could see that she had turned several shades paler.

  The rain was unrelenting, pouring down in sheets, making it hard to catch my breath.

  ‘Why are you spying on my sister’s house? Were you planning to kill me too?’

  ‘Of course not!’ Jessica shouted, her eyes wild. ‘I would never do that.’

  I laughed. It echoed through the trees, sounding wild and maniacal.

  ‘I saw the tape, Jessica. I know what you did. And I know damned well what you’re capable of. You’re just a pathetic bully. A nasty, evil bully! You always have been…’

  ‘You mean you saw what your sister did, too, right? I guess you don’t think she was a bully too?’

  My face sagged. ‘I know what my sister did. I also know that Rhonda sent her the tape before she killed herself, and that my sister wanted to come forward, but you told her to keep her mouth shut. Did you shut her up yourself? Did you kill my sister too?’

  The rain was so heavy, I could barely see her expression, but I could tell she was shaking her head in the dark. More lightning crashed, and I could see the evil glint in her eyes.

  ‘First of all, Rhonda didn’t send the tape. Your sister did. I don’t know why she felt so guilty all of a sudden, but she did. We kept that secret buried for so long … and then out of the blue, she grows a fucking conscience. Rhonda called me, she was out of her mind, drunk and crazy as always … but I didn’t think she’d kill herself over it. I thought I could talk Madi out of coming forward. And I wondered what happened to the tape after Madi sent it but now, I guess I know. Rhonda must have sent it back to your sister before she killed herself.’

  ‘Where is she, Jessica?’

  ‘I told you! I really don’t know!’

  ‘I don’t mean my sister. I mean Sarah. What did you do with the body?’

  Jessica was bent forward at the knees now, rubbing her two bloody shins. ‘We threw her in Moon Lake,’ she muttered.

  ‘Impossible! They already searched the lake for her body.’

  ‘Yes, they did. I don’t know how we got so lucky, honestly. Maybe the fish devoured her, or maybe she’s hung up down there, somewhere so deep, they couldn’t find her. But trust me, she is in there – I tossed her in there myself. I watched her body sink beneath the water. I waved goodbye from the shore…’

  ‘Why were you so damn mean to that girl? What did she ever do to you?’

  For the first time, Jessica’s eyes turned glassy. Her mouth sagged and then she said, ‘I don’t know. She was an easy target, I guess. She made me feel better about being me. I know I was a bully, okay? I hate myself for what I did. When I replay it in my mind … well, I just don’t know who that girl back there was. I’m not that person anymore. I’m nothing like that now.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  ‘So, what now? Are you going to turn us in? Your own sister? For all we know, she went off and killed herself too!’

  ‘You are damned right I’m turning you in. Sarah’s mother deserves to know the truth. You’re a mother now, Jessica – how would you feel if someone did that to your precious Chelsi, huh?’

  And just like that I knew why my sister had suddenly felt so guilty. Her own son, Ben, always getting picked on and bullied for being different, for being strange … she couldn’t live with the secret of what they’d done to Sarah anymore.

  ‘You think I don’t feel bad about what I did? There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about it … but I’m not the one who held the pillow over her face.’

  I couldn’t help it, I laughed. ‘Did you forget my sister was taping you? It was you who pressured Rhonda to smother her. It was you who held her down, so she couldn’t move. Don’t forget, I went to school with you. I know how mean you were. And yeah, maybe you’ve changed … but I bet there’s a lot of you that’s still the same. That mean girl is still in there, just waiting to come out. I’m going to the police, so what are you going to do to try and stop me?’

  I stepped forward, only inches from her face.

  ‘Nothing. All I can do is beg you, just like I begged your sister … what difference would it make, anyhow? Sarah Goins is dead. Her mother thinks she ran away. Isn’t that better than knowing the truth? What will happen to her mother if she learns the truth? What will happen to my children if I go to jail? Emily – think about what will happen to Ben and Shelley if Madeline goes to jail. They will always be tainted by what their mother did.’

  I shook my head, considering her words. There was this deep, dark part of me – the part that loved my sister and my niece and my nephew – that wanted to agree. Let it go.

  But that was what I’d done all those years ago when I saw Sarah getting picked on – I let it go. I kept on walking. I ignored it. And now that poor girl was dead. If I had been her friend, defended her … could I have changed the course of time? Could I have prevented her death? That thought hit me like a bolt of lightning and I rocked back on my heels.

  I tried to imagine a group of bullies doing the same thing to Ben. Or even to Shelley. A ball of rage fueled inside me. I imagined myself smothering Jessica or beating her until she died. I had enough anger inside me to do it…

  ‘Did you hit me over the head in the woods? Was that you? Everyone said I fell that summer, but that was around the same time…’

  Jessica’s eyes widened. ‘No, of course not. Although your sister thought it was me. I tried to scare her. When we took the body down to the woods, she was still freaking out. I warned her that I would hurt you if she went to the cops or told her parents. After you got hurt and she thought it was me … well, I sort of let her believe it. But it couldn’t have been me; Rhonda and I went straight home after dumping her. You must have followed behind an hour or so later, because that’s when it happened…I don’t know how you fell, and to be honest, we were all so worried about them finding Sarah’s body, that none of us spent too much time thinking about your head injury, except Madi. I saw no harm in letting her think it was me. I wanted her to be scared of me. If she feared something happening to you, she’d stay quiet. And for a while, she was, but I promise, it wasn’t me.’

  I stared into her eyes, trying to figure out how much of what she was saying was true…

  ‘Get out of here before I do something I’ll regret,’ I told her. She looked stunned, still frozen in place. The rain was slowing; we were both soaking wet. My teeth chattered, and I could hear hers chattering too.

  ‘Go!’ I pointed toward the mouth of the woods. Then Jessica took off up the hill, struggling to run up it.

  ‘And Jessica? Don’t let me catch you snooping around my sister’s house again!’ I called after her.

  If she heard me, she didn’t turn around. Slowly, I climbed the slippery hill. From the edge of the forest, I watched Jessica’s dark figure cut across Mr Tennors’ field and head for the main road.

  I didn’t take my eyes off her until she melted into the inky blackness of the night.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The last thing I would have expected to do was fall asleep. But when I came back inside my sister’s house, I was freezing. It was the sort of chill that burned and ached, and made my brain grow fuzzy.

  I stripped out of my soaking wet clothes and let them fall in a pile on the kitchen floor. There was a stack of blankets upstairs and I carried them all back down, slipping and sliding with my wet feet on the staircase. I wrapped one blanket after another around myself, then collapsed onto the couch.

  I didn’t know if it was because of the trauma I’d endured, or if it was the anti-depressant I’d taken earlier, but I fell asleep within seconds of lying down on the couch.

  I dreamt of Ben – thrus
t down in the backseat of the bus as boys took turns holding their backpacks over his face. Pushing and shoving, I tried to reach him, but the aisle was clogged with screaming children – no, not screaming; they were chanting something. At first, I thought it was, ‘Go in! Go in! Go in!’ But then I realized they were saying, ‘Kill him, kill him, kill him, kill him…’ I screamed until my throat filled with tiny needles, but all I could do was watch his little feet and legs kicking wildly as he struggled to take his last breath…

  Gasping, I sat up straight on my sister’s couch. I felt like I was being smothered as I rolled and jerked, trying to untangle myself from the heavy blankets, until eventually, I landed face flat on the floor. I was feverish, my head and body burning up as I stripped the remaining blankets off my naked, sweating body.

  In the bathroom, I ran cold water in the tub, and then added a little hot. I climbed in, the water engulfing me like a silky cocoon. I let myself sink deeper and deeper, until my entire body and face were immersed.

  Poor Sarah Goins.

  She didn’t deserve to die. Her only mistake was being different and trusting my sister – trusting that someone actually wanted to be her friend.

  I didn’t know how long I lay there, but time slipped away from me. I fell asleep again, half of my face pressed against the back of the tub.

  Finally, I got out and wrapped myself in the biggest, softest towel I could find on the linen shelf. I didn’t want to see, touch, or even think about that VHS tape again. The horror it contained would never leave me. It was embedded on my soul, making this grimy imprint on my subconscious. There were some things you couldn’t un-see.

  I forced myself to go get it anyway. With the tape in my hand, I carried it into my father’s old office. I stuck it in a large, yellow envelope and wrote ‘Paul Templeton’ on the back. Wrapping tape around and around it, I tried to seal it so tight, as though I could despool the terror burned on its magnetic tape…

  I needed to take this down to the station right now, but there was still something holding me back. What was it?

  I wanted to talk to my sister. I wanted to ask her why.

  I tried to imagine Ben and Shelley’s faces when they found out the truth about their mother.

  I went back to my sister’s closet and got the box of pictures out.

  The pictures of the three of them – the murderers. I couldn’t even look at them. I pulled out the school photo of Sarah Goins instead and squeezed it hard in my hand.

  Before I could change my mind, I got changed into some clothes and walked out the front door. I needed to go see Paul at the station, to tell him everything I knew … but instead I crossed the field and kept going – heading for the Goins Farm.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The field was like quicksand, my borrowed boots sinking further and further into the mud as I tried to reach the Goins Farm. Sarah’s picture was still hidden away in my palm. I could feel it there, burning a hole straight through me.

  A dense layer of fog clung to the air, making it impossible to see the farm in the distance, or much of anything in front of me. Dark clouds loomed overhead; I wondered if another brutal storm was brewing.

  Sarah deserved a storm, the kind that rips and roars, tearing Bare Border apart. All this time, she was lying at the bottom of Moon Lake at the hands of my sister and her friends.

  Orange-yellow lights split through the fog, and finally, I could see the brown and white farmhouse where Sarah Goins used to live. We had lived only a short walk away from each other, but I’d never even once considered going over to visit her when she was alive. God forbid the kids at school find out that I was friends with her. I was a coward. My cheeks burned with shame.

  A bright red barn set back in the distance. There were only a couple dim lights glowing inside the farm house. I didn’t know what I was going to say. It was very possible that I might admit the truth, right then and there, standing on Sarah’s front porch. I didn’t give myself long enough to plan it out, I just knocked on the door.

  It was early. I hadn’t bothered to check the time before I left. My best guess was that it was seven or eight in the morning. An unexpected house-call this early was rude, but I felt compelled to see Sarah’s mother. Her name was Mindy, that I remembered. But, honestly, I’d rarely ever seen her. I could remember her coming up to school to pick up Sarah a few times. She was an eccentric woman, wearing shawls in summer, her fingers and neck adorned with strange, antique jewelry.

  The door opened an inch. An elderly woman with shocking silver-white hair stared out at me. Mindy Goins looked different than I remembered – sadder. Her eyes were raccoon-ish, her face drooping down in a perpetual frown. She gazed at me, wordlessly.

  ‘Um, hi. I’m Emily Ashburn. I used to live across the field.’ My own voice sounded strange and strained, like it belonged to somebody else.

  ‘Yes. I recognize you.’ Mindy looked suspicious, her lips pursed and her eyes narrow. After what I found out last night, I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  ‘May I come inside for a minute?’ I was ready for her to tell me no, ready to turn around and go away, to forget everything I knew … but she opened the door and motioned me inside.

  The farm house had a wet smell to it – like something moldy was growing inside. There were newspapers spread out on the kitchen table as though some sort of arts and craft project was about to begin. The countertops were littered with rancid packs of rice, and next to the sink, I spotted a rotting bag of green potatoes.

  I followed Sarah’s mother into a sitting room with two mismatched chairs and a shabby loveseat. This was where Sarah grew up.

  The walls were covered in photographs – some of them were of Mindy and a man, presumably Sarah’s father, but most were of Sarah herself. I could feel her eyes watching me, accusing me, as I passed her by. I gripped her picture tighter in my hand. I’m so sorry, Sarah.

  Mindy sat down in one of the chairs and I took the other, clearing my throat. ‘I was going through my sister’s things and I found this picture of your daughter.’ I handed her the now crumpled picture I’d been holding. She stared at it for so long, I wondered if she would ever take it.

  Finally, she plucked it from my hand.

  ‘We went to school together.’

  ‘Yes, I know. She told me you were one of her friends.’ Mindy gave me a look I couldn’t define – wistful, maybe. She didn’t believe Sarah when she told her we were friends. Maybe, deep down, even Sarah knew the truth—I was too big of a coward to be her friend.

  ‘She was a good person,’ I said abruptly, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I tried not to look at the pictures on the wall, but my eyes were drawn to them. Sarah perched on a stout, gray pony. Sarah in her underwear, draped in her mother’s pearls and wearing high heels. Sarah in a pair of stonewashed overalls, holding up a fish. Sarah, as a baby, clutched in the arms of a smiling, mustached man – her father, perhaps.

  ‘I remember this photo. She got this taken at school,’ Mindy said. When I looked over at her, she was cupping the photo in her hands, lovingly. ‘She was so happy that year because she gave out a bunch of these to her friends.’

  ‘I remember that, too,’ I said, softly.

  ‘Only nobody gave her any pictures in return.’ Mindy’s face had hardened into a stiff mask. I wasn’t sure what to say.

  ‘I’m so sorry about Sarah, Mrs Goins. I really am. I’m sure you miss her terribly.’

  Mindy had a far off look in her eye. ‘I like to imagine that she ran away. It isn’t so hard to believe, was it? I mean, after all, she was too good for this town. Nobody understood her or accepted her. They laughed at her expense. I like to think that she’s somewhere else – some big city where she fits in. She just wanted to make friends. She wanted that more than anything…’

  My heart filled with sorrow, and I felt the guilt of what I already knew rolling through me. Maybe she would be better off if she never knew what really happened to her daughter…

  ‘
Did you find your sister yet?’

  I looked up, startled by the change in topic. Apparently, even Mindy Goins knew about Madeline’s disappearance.

  ‘No. I have no clue where she is either. I wish I did…’

  ‘I’m sure her children miss her deeply,’ Mindy said.

  ‘Did you know my sister well?’ I asked. Mindy shook her head.

  ‘Not really. Not well, anyways. Until … well, I saw your sister at one of my grief groups in Merrimont. I’ve been going for years, so when she walked in, I was surprised. I’d recognize her anywhere – she always looked like a little yellow angel, out there playing in the sun by the field.’

  ‘What was my sister doing there? I mean, did she say?’

  ‘Well, the loss of her mother and father affected her deeply. And her son – your nephew – he’s autistic, isn’t he? She told the group about it, so I went up to her after class. I don’t think she even knew who I was, though we’ve been neighbors most of our lives. I told her that my Sarah was the same way. She struggled with the same sort of issues Ben does; she was special needs. Only, back then, they didn’t really know how to diagnose it as well, you see.’

  My stomach fluttered. This was why. My sister felt guilty. Ben reminded her of Sarah. She probably sent the tape to Rhonda, hoping she would agree to come forward too. But Rhonda was already unstable, and that sent her over the edge, so she killed herself.

  Something inside me was breaking. I couldn’t imagine losing a child I loved, like Mindy had. It was hard enough being apart from my niece and nephew these last couple days. Being a mother, and losing a child like that, not knowing what happened to them … it was presumably so much worse than anything I’d ever had to endure in my life.

  I also couldn’t imagine how difficult it was to live with the guilt of what my sister had done. She deserved to feel it, but damn, it must have hurt.