• Yes, I am still here at the police station, getting offered soda after soda, water after water, nasty coffee after nasty coffee. Answering the same questions asked different ways, with the same answer give or take a word. “No, I don’t know where she is. No I don’t know if she is one of the bodies. No I don’t want anything to drink.”

    I should have seen signs, maybe thought something was wrong, maybe got a weird feeling as a kid, they told me.

    But I didn’t, so they are confused, angry and convinced I’m going to want to join them.
    Her.

    Either by the way everyone else did, or by the old fashion night reconnaissance laughing at everyone.

    Nope.
    I start to walk around the station.

    You know the wall of the victim’s photos? And the crime scene photos? All lined up on the wall, held up with pushpins of different colors, as if a blue one will make you forget the picture if of a dead person? Well, I’m looking at my house, and some of my friends.
    They are wearing orange or purple pajama like outfits. At home, I have an orange top and a pair of purple bottoms, at night they are cozy. Their eyes are closed, and hands together.

    A cop walks in and just watches me.

    I turn my attention back to the wall, now my eyes reaching the perp side. Their photographed eyes are able to leer upon the people they victimized, and then ultimately will be put all together, once they are caught, forever staying with them in a folder only a few people will see.

    No surprise, I see Yellow, the recently made infamous cult leader that just convinced 124, or was it 142? Any way, Yellow, the recently made infamous cult leader that just convinced 120+ people to kill themselves. Next to her is her kid, that the media found and is trying to get all the details, before that psycho decides to "claim the title as leader" as they put. And some different shots of them, with different hair, and different weight.