I’ll try to be concise here. This is fresh and I’m still wrapping my mind around it.
When I first started school, I quickly made three friends. Andrew, Noah and Mark. In senior Kindergarten, the teacher informed us that Mark moved away. The following year, my dad got a job in the city and we also moved away. When I was either 15 or 16, we were discussing my old friends and my parents revealed that Mark had never moved - he’d died. Specifically, he’d been murdered.
This story has nothing to do with Mark. Not really. Probably not. Mark’s father was arrested for the crime and his sisters were sent to live with family. I guess his father had been un-medicated for some mental illness, maybe schizophrenia or something, and one day he’d just snapped. Stabbed his son to death. My parents said the case was pretty open and shut. I only mention Mark because of the similarities to an ongoing situation involving one of my daughter’s friends, who I’ll call “Sam.”
First, let’s catch up to the modern day: my dad did well at his new job, I grew up in a comfortable household, went to school, dropped out and then, as will happen with underachievers from small towns, I found my way back home. Andrew had long since moved away but I reconnected with Noah, now a teacher’s assistant at the same school where we’d met, who introduced me to the girl who would become my daughter’s mother. Things didn’t work out and we split. My daughter, Priya, is now 7 years old and the absolute best part of my life. Her best friend, Sam, was 6 years old and one of the nicest, most polite kids I’ve ever met.
Three weeks ago, Sam disappeared.
There was no sign of a break-in. No sign of a struggle of any kind. Saturday night, Sam went to sleep in his bed and Sunday morning he was gone. The news spread the way that’s only possible in a small town. By the time we’d arrived at church and I’d left Priya with her Sunday school class, it was all that anybody was talking about. The missing kid. The kidnapping. But then somebody mentioned Sam by name and my heart dropped. I feel selfish for it, but, in that moment, I wasn’t even thinking about Sam. All I could think of was needing to explain to Priya that her friend was missing. During the service we said prayers for Sam’s safe return and I assumed that the kids were doing the same, which only deepened my sense of dread. By the time the service was over, I was sweating.
I retrieved Priya from class and we drove home basically in silence. She seemed fairly unaffected by the whole situation. I assumed she didn’t properly understand. When we got home, I sat her down and asked her if we could talk.
“Hey, Priya, can we talk about what’s going on with Sam?”
“I don’t know why he didn’t tell me he was going on vacation but I’m not mad at him. We’re still friends.”
I was taken aback but figured that the church must have avoided mentioning it to the kids so that the parents could explain it on their own terms. I know I should have told her then and there but her response had thrown me off and shattered any resolve I’d built since finding out. I ended the conversation and we went about our day. We watched some cartoons, had some snacks. Regular Sunday stuff. All while her friend was missing and she was oblivious.
Two days ago, they found Sam’s body.
The word around town is that the body was unrecognizable. Apparently he’d been stabbed with such ferocity that it almost looked like he’d been mauled by a large animal. The clothes, or what was left of them, were definitely his, though. It’s Sam. He’s gone.
The thing that really sticks out to me, though, out of all of this, is the other word around town. The leading theory is that Sam was killed by his father who, apparently, has been un-medicated for some type of mental illness and ended up just snapping and stabbing his son to death.
Upon hearing that, obviously, I started to think about Mark. And this situation is just too fucking similar. The school and all the adults told us that Mark moved. The church told Priya and her classmates that Sam is on vacation. I’m waiting to see what they say to the kids on Sunday, now that he’s been found. I was young, but Mark’s dad never seemed weird or off to me. And I’ve known Sam’s family for about two years now and they’re about as normal and loving a family as you’d ever meet. And now the town is landing on the exact same conclusion that they did all those years ago?
And, come to think of it, why would they lie to the kids when one of them might have known something that could have helped find Sam? And why have NONE of the kids been questioned by the police?
I think my town is hiding something. I’m thinking of asking Noah what he thinks but I don’t want to come across as crazy. Thoughts?