Cora Brierly was listed as a missing person on February 2nd of this year. She was a foreign student from France where her family still lives. Cora was, by all meanings of the term, a social butterfly. She called her parents and brother every morning just to hear their voices and sent them long emails detailing her day before going to sleep. Although she rented an apartment outside of the city, Cora attended school and worked in Chicago. She had many friends there and I’m honored to have been considered one. She loved going out to music festivals, shopping with her friends, and eating at new restaurants.
On December 30th, many of Cora’s friends (myself included) were contacted through Facebook by Cora’s brother, Dimitry. Cora had not called him or her parents the morning of or before. We had already had suspicions something was wrong as Cora had not been answering our texts and she had not come to any of her classes or work. We didn’t think anything of it at first. But that wasn’t like Cora at all. To try and soothe their worries, some of us skipped class and drove down to Cora’s apartment.
We knocked and knocked, but no one would answer. We called the police, a search warrant was signed, and inside was more of no one. She was declared missing and nothing has come of it. Not until recently.
On April 30th, I received a file through an email with the domain hearmes.cro. The file was titled unit.f. It looked like random spam mail and tried to delete it immediately, but it wouldn’t allow me to do so. I opened the file and was shown a document written entirely in French. I translated it on Google, so I don’t know if all the translations are completely correct and the letter sounds like it was written in the 19th century, but it’s all I have. I don’t want anyone else to see it yet.
I believe it was written by Cora.
Or, at the very least, it was framed to appear that way. I’m not sure. It’s why I haven’t shown it to her family or the authorities. I fear it may just be some sick prank and I would hate to cause her family the anguish of giving them hope only to have it crushed immediately after. But, if it is truly from her, the contents of the writing could be critical to the investigation. We’ve had nothing for so long, perhaps this could be the thing to return her home. I don’t know. I think I will turn it in soon.
But I’m posting it here and now, if only so I am not burdened alone by it.
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Tuesday, 25 December
Things Are Looking Up
To my dearest brother Dimitry,
Winter has taken its toll on me. It came rather late this year. Many of my friends had placed bets on whether it would snow at all in December, and it seemed as though it would not. But, in its final days, a blizzard came to pass and this little town has been painted white. In just the two days we have had of snow, I have seen a car slide into a ditch and another that had not been moved in a time be buried up to its windows. It isn’t very good and I have never wanted to go home more than now.
Questions for you:
How is winter treating you? Has Mom’s illness bettered? Was it bronchitis? Has Dad’s desire to move to Ireland waned? (You should take away the streaming service so he doesn’t get any more ideas). Have you asked either of them when we will go see Aunt Sasha? Ivan tells me she isn’t doing well, mentally speaking. She won’t respond to my messages.
Since we last corresponded, the neighbors in the complex behind my own have become increasingly distracting. They make no noise but during the night, every unit’s windows glow with strobing colorful lights. The blinds are closed but they are not enough to contain the lights. I reasoned that the neighbors are having parties and so, as long as they are quiet, I’ve no problem with them. I simply shut my own blinds and wear a sleeping mask. I’ve only just realized how strange it is that every unit is having a party every night.
You know me and you know my curiosity is that of a cat’s. I didn’t work on Friday so I sat at my bedroom window and watched the building for a long time. The sky had darkened but unusually, the lights did not turn on. I went to the bathroom and upon returning, my room was filled with the colorful lights of the room across from me. This time, though, the blinds were open.
Do you remember the first time we visited that roadside zoo in Rockford the last time you visited? There was that mangey lynx that was walking in circles in its small cage. His name was Barry. And when as he spun, he seemed to lean toward the center, as if falling, but the momentum of his walking kept him spinning. He remained like that from before we saw him to when we passed his exhibit to leave, nearly two hours later.
There was a girl in the room doing exactly that. She walked in a loose circle, over and over again. She seemed to be tilting toward the center of it, just like the wild cat. As she spun, her long hair remained in the middle, still and unmoving. The lights were flashing so quickly and brightly, she was just a shadow in the room with no discernable features. (Pondering the image so more, I realize now that there was no furniture in the room. I don’t remember seeing a door. Where were the colorful lights coming from?) I felt creepy watching her and, honestly, I was a bit unsettled by the sight. I closed my blinds and went away to sleep.
I awoke some hours later, not many, maybe just four. When I did, I was immediately blinded by the lights. They were in my room. My white walls turned from red to yellow, to green, to blue, and back to red again. I could hardly see anything, I was confused by it, completely blinded. I sat up and saw my blinds weren’t just open, but lifted up. My window and the mesh were open and, across the space between our buildings, I saw her again. She was still spinning. Fast then, almost running. And she was leaning further into the center. She was almost bent into the figure seven. I could almost see her face. Her mouth was agape, her eyes wide like an animal’s. I heard it then. She was screaming a terrible, terrible, wounded sound.
I ran downstairs. I didn’t even get to close the window, I was too scared. I tried to sleep, but I had become acutely aware of my surroundings. I could hear it, the sound of her footsteps. Their marching matched the frantic thrumming of my blood and the beating of my heart. I was so afraid. I’m still so afraid.
But, again, I am also curious. I cannot help it. It is my nature. I knocked on the girl’s unit door yesterday. I didn’t expect anyone to answer, but she did. Dimitry, I tell you honestly, you would have left Elizabeth in a heartbeat if you saw her. She has bright red hair that stops at her shoulders and beautiful green eyes. Freckles dust her cheeks like flower petals. I’ve never been so envious and so entranced before. She was tall, too, much taller than I. When she asked what I wanted, I suddenly realized that curiosity is not reason enough to knock at someone’s door. I’m foolish, and even more so when nervous. So I asked her, “My dog has run away, have you seen her?”
The woman shook her head and I excused myself. But as I was leaving, she asked where I got my jacket from. (It’s the one Mom bought in Milan). I told her so from a distance and she waved me back towards her. I don’t know why I did, but I walked to her again. Her name is Lily Walckenaer. We stood at the doorway and talked of the coat’s quality and whatnot before she asked if I enjoyed rabbit. I said yes, even though I have never tasted it.
Dimitry, she has invited me to dinner tonight.
My friends are all in the city and my family is out of the country. Everyone feels so distant. And, oh, how easy it is to tire when love feels so distant. I believe I have made a local friend. At least, I hope so. Like me, she lives alone. I don’t know if she has other friends. But upon returning home, I remembered that the spinning girl had long hair. Lily did not. I’ll ask about it tonight and I’ll let you know all about it in my next message.
Sincerely,
Cora.