Down by the Lake - November 29, 2010

It was in the cool November. As she walked down the street, the wind blew through her hair so majestically that the trees often whispered of her beauty. Aimlessly and emotionally she walked. Feet moving in perfect symmetry and synchronization with one another. So perfectly – so beautifully.

            I sit in my bedroom mindlessly searching for entertainment. Pacing back and forth in my room pondering ideas for fun. I look out the window and am puzzled by what I see. There is a young girl, about my age, walking down my street. Perfectly in the middle of the street, in perfect sync, simply walking. A blank look on her face and an emotionless facade she walks down the street. Confused, I ignore it and return to my pacing. Then the next day, at the same time, I saw her again. Completely in sync with herself. I decide that I am going to follow her. Find out where she is going and why. I walk outside and throw on my coat. I follow close behind her but far away enough that it isn’t suspicious. We venture farther into the town I live outside of. Suddenly she makes a turn and I follow. She continues to turn and turn and turn as though trying to shake me – but casually enough for that to be void. Throughout the vast turns and sudden corners I lost track of the girl. She seemed to have simply disappeared. Perplexed, I returned home. On my front lawn I see my buddies - Matthew, Mark, and John. I ask them if they’ve seen the odd girl. They say that they have and we begin speaking of the strange occurrence. We set up a plan to follow her the following day. We were going all out to find out the truth.

            The following day we all congregated back on my front lawn. With synchronized watched and walkie talkies we take our places. John and I, Luke, take place near my home. I hide in a tree and John in a bush. Matthew and Mark station themselves inside the nearby town. Then I saw her. Seeing her from the front exposed her true beauty. She was one of the most beautiful beings I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her flowing eyes and glowing green eyes were so mesmerizing I nearly fell out of my tree. I shake off the feeling of intense awe and bring the walkie talkie to my mouth. I press the small button on the side and speak after the static.

            “Blue Kitty, this is Red Dog, bogey is in sight and closing quickly. Execute plan Fork-29-Slide. Over.” I say.

            “Red Dog, this is Blue Kitty, roger that. Executing Fork-29-Slide. Over.”

            After the girl passed me by, I jumped out of the tree and begin following her with great stealth. Running, jumping, and sliding into and out of bushes and through alley ways. John following me close behind. We near the city so John radios in.

            “Blue Kitty, this is Yellow Turtle, tango is within range. Prepare to launch.”

            “Roger.”

            We enter the town and I see Matthew jump down from a balcony and pursue along with us. We then come to the twists and turns. We all split up and follow her. Through all the turns we finally all convene in one location and follow her still. We’re now leaving the town limits. Steadily we walk down the small dirt path. We come upon a lake. The girl walks out onto the boardwalk stretching into the midst of said lake. Then the four of us witness the most frightening, yet amazing, thing of our lives. The girl gets to the end of the boardwalk and disappears. There was no where she could have gone. She simply vanished into the thin, brisk air. We all looked at one another in total confusion. We search the end of the boardwalk for any sign of the once-visible girl but found nothing. Soon after, we headed home – each of us still wondering just what happened back at that lake. Was she a ghost? Was she an alien of some sort? Does she have the ability to turn invisible? Plausible to ridiculous thoughts reined our minds.

            The following day we planned to uncover this mystery. We did the same thing we’d done the day before. We followed the girl down to the lake but this time was different. As she walked out onto the boardwalk, Matthew yelled at her:

            “Hey!,” he screamed, “What are you doing?!”

            The girl turned around and looked sharply at Matthew. She spoke in an ominously monotone voice - so deep yet almost screeching.

            “I have returned to this mortal word to uncover an evil deed committed at this very lake. You must help me. I’ve been cursed to wander these hallowed streets ‘til the victim is avenged, justly.”

            After finishing her speech the girl disappeared at the end of the boardwalk again. We all know that we have to research what happened there and then help this poor spirit. As we walked back to our homes, the fear finally struck us. We had just encountered a ghost – a spirit beyond this world that is trapped. Our small minds could not wrap themselves over the fact of what we had just witnessed. Regardless of the sheer fright, we still had to research this and set this soul free! We return to our home block and all congregate at my home. We go to my room and fire up the computers. I used my desktop while John used the family laptop. Using the famous Google search engine we began our investigation. Searching such things as “Vandalia Lake Crime” and “Crimes near Lake in Vandalia.” After about twenty minutes of useless search results, we struck gold – metaphorically speaking, of course. I stumbled upon a Vandalian newspaper archives company called the Vandalian Modern Archives. I found this newspaper article:

Vandalia News

Distributed by City Commissioner’s Office of Vandalia

Thursday, November 20, 2006

Top Headlines

Page 3A

Sunset Lake Murderer

Yesterday, Wednesday, November 19, yet another victim was recovered inside Lake Vandalia on the outskirts of town. The body was identified as 15 year old Timmy Westbrook. This has been the 5^th victim of the killer in two months. The victims have all been teenagers around 14 – 16 years old. Two were female and the rest, three, were males. The latest murder has stunned investigators. The method of the murderer is brutal. Investigators say that the victims are first minorly beaten with blunt weapons such as baseball bats or wooden clubs, then taken to the lake, bound and weighed down and tossed into the lake to drown. Three of the victims have died of drowning, one by hypothermia, and one by blunt trauma. These murders are very brutal and must be stopped at once.

            I then start searching the rest of the VMA’s records and find many other newspaper articles explaining the same occurrences. All of the murders occurred in November. Each of them were in breaks of four years. The latest article was dated Nov. 19, 2006. As we read that, combined with our research, our jaws dropped. It was almost four years since the last murder. And they happened in periods of four years. That means someone was going to be murdered. We printed off as many articles as we could and ran to the local police station. After waiting a full half hour to be seen by the police chief, we sat down in the dark office. He asked us what our business was and we explained that there was a serial killer running amuck. He looked over the news articles, puzzled. He’d never heard of such murders. He went out into the secretary’s station and asked for some key. He then ushered us down the hall, down some steps, down a corridor, and to a door. He inserted the key into the keyhole, twisted, and opened the door. Inside we found hundreds of file cabinets. The chief told us that this was the criminal files room. It contained record of every criminal act that a police report was filed for – from simple things like disturbing the peace to large things like murders.

            We walked down aisles of cabinets, in a fashion that seemed aimless. Finally, the chief stopped at a cabinet and opened it. The drawer extended out almost to the next row of cabinets, and it was filled with file folders. My small mind couldn’t fathom the amount of files in this room. He sifted through the folders quickly and accurately until he stopped and pulled one out. The tab read “Lake Murders.” He opened the file and found exact copies of the newspaper articles we had presented. He began to look them over with a stern look. He slammed the drawer shut and hustled back upstairs and to his office – we followed behind. We met him back in his office radioing for his police force to report immediately. After the squad assembled the chief spoke aloud to us all.

            “We have a serial killer that’s largely at hand here. He’s murdered five teenagers and we’ve yet to even pursue him! It’s time for the next murder, we’ve predicted. I want two patrol cars out at all times. We’re catching this guy before he gets number six.”

            The boys and I smiled, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. The police chief thanked us and offered us a ride home. We accepted the offer and were happily transported home. We parted and went our separate ways. The next morning came slowly and passed quickly. Before I knew it, I had eaten breakfast, gotten dressed, and it was already 2 in the afternoon. I met with the boys and we decided to go walk around. We conveniently ended up down by the lake. Walking around, I see something in the corner of my eye. I turn quickly and sharply to see nothing. I gaze in wonderment at the nothingness I apparently did, or didn’t, see. I turn back around and then see it again! I walk back into the trees and see the ghostly girl. She was hiding behind a tree. Behind her emotionless face, I saw a look of despair and fear. She motioned for me to follow her and began to lead me around the lake. The boys notice that I’m walking away and follow me. The girl leads to me to a tree. On the tree I see then name Emily engraved in a heart, but the heart was broken. She then pointed westward and disappeared.

            We walked to the west, into the signified area. We search around when all of a sudden Mark fell. He exclaims his pain and that he tripped over something. There was nothing but a pile of leaves where he tripped, so we moved them. We uncovered a mound of newly unearthed and re-earthed dirt. We dug into the mound and uncovered a small box. We open it to find a letter. It was addressed to a “Mr. Sam Stevenson,” from “Zakariah Wayne.” The letter contained information about Sam - and at the bottom something so horrifically good – a death threat. We ran as fast as we could to the police station and into the chief’s office. We gave him the letter and he quickly called out a patrol car. They went straight to Zakariah’s house. Apparently he is a well-known gentleman around the town, but no one suspected him of being a murderer. Another patrol car was sent to the Stevenson residence. The officers were informed by the parents of Sam that he had been gone since early morning. They didn’t know where he was, but weren’t concerned until now. The police bust into Zakariah’s house and stormed every room. The house was clear. They then found a door to the basement. They slowly crept down the stairs until they saw poor 14-year-old Sam tied up to a chair, bleeding on one side of his head. Zakariah is then seen with a wooden club standing slight adjacent to the chair. The cops surround him as best they could. Guns raised and tension building, one office commands Zakariah to drop the weapon and step away. He drops his weapon and takes a single step back. A cop moves in and secures the weapon. Another unties Sam and releases him. Zakariah then lunges forward at an officer with a knife. Stabbing him in the stomach, the officer falls and Zakariah is shot.

            That evening, the Stevenson family was reunited. Zakariah – the 20 year murderer – was killed. The stabbed officer was recovering in the hospital, and the Lake Murders Folder was stamped in red ink – “Case Closed” The boys and I are congratulated and featured in the newspaper. We return home and sleep peacefully in our deeds. The next day we all walk down to the lake one last time. We see the girl at the end of the boardwalk. I run up to her and she speaks to me.

            “You, Luke, have set me free. You’ve solved the mystery of the Lake Murders. You’ve avenged me and my fellow victims. I will never forget you. Thank you so much for finally letting me pass on!”

            She disappeared ascendingly, as though she ascended straight into Heaven. On the boardwalk, where she once stood, I found a small locket. It was in the shape of a hexagon. Inside I found a picture. It was of the lake while Emily was still alive. To this day, I still wear that locket.

-Nick Alexander