My Sister is Missing

by Carissa Ann Lynch

  When I looked back at Paul, he was grinning. He leaned in and kissed me again, a tiny peck on the cheek. ‘Keep your phone nearby and call me if you need me, promise?’

  ‘Promise.’

  ‘Maybe we can meet for breakfast tomorrow? Hopefully I’ll know more details of the case by then. Also, I was on my way to see Jessica Feeler when I found out about Rhonda Sheckles, so I’ll have to try again tomorrow.’

  I nodded, my stomach turning as he climbed back inside his police car and left. I didn’t go back inside at first; instead I sat back down on the porch swing, wishing I could just be happy about hanging out with Paul again. Wasn’t this what I wanted, all those years ago? Could we go back to the way things used to be?

  But even if Madi showed up, and everything turned out okay, I still had to go back home, I still was without a job. Even without all this additional craziness, my life was at its lowest point. And even Paul Templeton, with his boyish charm, couldn’t fix my life. Only I could do that. When I was young, I thought I could tie up my dreams in other people and interests – Madi, Paul, my parents, writing – but in reality, those people and things were just parts of me. There had to be a bigger picture in all this…

  I drifted back inside the house, careful to lock the door behind me. Paul had given me the new keys and I laid them on the kitchen table.

  There were a couple pieces of pizza left, so I stuck the box in the fridge, then stared out the kitchen window. The sun slowly melted behind the trees and I shivered. Darkness was coming. But it wasn’t the dark that scared me – it was who was out there in it.

  I wandered back to Shelley’s bedroom. It was completely dark as I took the TV remote in my hand and sat down on her tiny bed. The floor of her room was still scattered with toys and discarded clothes. A porcelain doll stared back at me from the corner, its eyes glassy and menacing, reminding me of Rhonda’s dead blank stare and bloated lips…

  Even the tiny toy cars and trains seemed evil. Nothing felt right anymore. But it never did in this town, did it?

  I turned the TV on and pressed play on the VCR.

  A white snowy screen appeared and then the loud hissing sound of static bellowed through the tiny speakers. Cringing, I turned the volume down as fast as I could with the remote.

  The snowy screen popped off and a black screen appeared. I stood up from the bed and moved to get a closer look.

  ‘It’s on,’ a girl’s voice suddenly said through the speakers. The screen was still dark, and I pressed my face closer to the screen, trying to see through the darkness…

  And then suddenly, the screen jumped; someone was walking around with a handheld video camera of some kind. The view became clearer and I immediately knew the video was taken from inside this house. I recognized my father’s armchair as it blurred by, and the coat rack in the corner … the white front door appeared, and then it swung open.

  ‘What do you guys want?’ said a playful voice. I finally recognized the sing-song, childish voice – my sister was the one holding the camera.

  Jessica Feeler and Rhonda Sheckles were standing on the front porch – the younger versions of them. They looked so much younger than I remembered, Rhonda with her babyish freckles and Jessica with all that make-up. She looked like a little girl playing dress-up.

  They were both smiling into the camera. Jessica struck a pose on the porch and Rhonda blew kisses. ‘Are you going to let us in or what?’ Jessica snapped, dropping her pose as she lost interest in the camera fast.

  The screen bounced around and then went black again. Was that it? I wondered, feeling baffled.

  I sat back down on Shelley’s bed, watching. Waiting.

  ‘I told you she was here,’ someone whispered, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. The screen was still black, but I could hear the sound of my sister’s bell-like voice. I clutched Shelley’s thin bedspread as I watched.

  ‘Where?’ another voice asked. That one sounded like Rhonda talking, but I couldn’t be sure. The screen stayed black for several minutes. Time ticked by and I wondered if the video was over.

  But then suddenly, Ben’s room came into focus on the screen. Only it wasn’t Ben’s room, of course. Rather, it was my sister’s old bedroom. My sister panned around the room with her camera, passing by the Debbie Gibson poster and her walls lined with Perfect Attendance awards. I could hear her breathing on the other end, raspy and urgent.

  ‘Here we go guys, episode forty-two,’ my sister’s voice said from behind the camera. And just like that, a memory came rushing back to me … my sister, the prankster. She went through this phase where she wanted to be a TV host. She liked to play pranks on her episodes, barging in on me in the bathroom once and making me scream. And then there were the times she hid in the closet, times she filmed my reaction to some lie she’d made up…

  The camera popped back on, still panning around my sister’s room. She stopped when she got to the bed. I gasped. Sarah Goins was sitting on the edge of the mattress, her hands tucked neatly in her lap.

  I shuddered at the sight of her; it was like seeing a ghost, or being a ghost myself…

  Sarah was smiling, but it was a nervous sort of grin. ‘Why are you taping me?’ she asked, her voice so small and mouse-like. She was small – probably eleven or twelve – and not much bigger than Ben was now. Even when she was nearing her teenage years, she looked and acted so much younger than she really was…

  ‘I can’t believe you stood up to Jessica. I don’t think anyone’s ever called her a bitch before. Well, at least not to her face,’ my sister said. I couldn’t see Madi’s face, only Sarah’s reaction to her.

  The corners of her lips curled up in satisfaction. ‘She’s a bully, Madi. I’m glad you finally realized it, too.’

  ‘Guess what? I have a surprise for you,’ my sister said. I kept waiting for my sister to turn the camera toward herself, so I could see it was her. What the hell was she playing at with Sarah?

  ‘What is it?’ Sarah asked, her smile fading completely.

  The camera panned over to the closet on the wall. It was closed.

  ‘Us, that’s who!’ Rhonda and Jessica leapt from the closet, startling even me. They were cackling, obviously pleased with themselves. The camera panned back around to Sarah sitting on the bed. Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t look scared. More like, annoyed.

  ‘I thought you weren’t friends with them anymore, Madi. They’re mean.’ Sarah stuck her chin out, staring into the camera lens at my sister, her face defiant. The question was obviously directed at Madeline, but my sister said nothing in response.

  ‘You really think she would be friends with you? That anyone would want to be your friend? You’re fucking crazy.’ Jessica popped into view. She was standing in front of Sarah now, blocking my view of the girl.

  Jessica, with her hands on her hips, towering over the younger girl – she was your quintessential bully. My teeth clenched in anger as I watched her. Were they going to beat Sarah up?

  Rhonda appeared at the right of the screen, coming over to stand right next to Jessica. There was a small white pillow in her hand. I recognized that pillow; it was one of the silky-smooth couch pillows my mom used to make.

  Oh god. My eyes watered as I forced myself to keep watching.

  ‘You shouldn’t have called Jessica a bitch,’ Rhonda snapped. Suddenly she leapt toward Sarah, knocking her back on the bed. I cried out, jumping up to my feet.

  ‘No!’ I screamed as I watched, in horror, as Jessica held Sarah down by her shoulders. I couldn’t see Sarah’s face, but it was obvious that she was struggling to get Jessica off her.

  Then Rhonda leaned over the struggling girl and shoved the pillow down over her face. There was heavy, muffled breathing; Madeline huffing and puffing, the camera shivering and shaking in her hands.

  ‘Okay, guys! You scared her! That’s enough,’ I heard Madi say, her voice babyish and her confidence fading.

  Sarah’s stick thin arms and legs kic
ked out wildly, fighting to get the bigger girls off her.

  ‘Please don’t,’ I whispered. ‘Please…’

  As though she could hear me, Rhonda released the pillow and stepped back. I let out a sigh of relief. Thank god.

  Sarah was trying to sit up, but Jessica was still holding her down. ‘Put the pillow back on her face,’ Jessica commanded Rhonda.

  ‘Guys, that’s enough.’ Madi said. Her voice was frightened, fueled by adrenaline. I didn’t think smothering Sarah Goins was what she’d had in mind for a prank.

  ‘Do it now!’ Jessica screamed at Rhonda. Sarah’s arms and legs were flailing, fighting against the bigger girl.

  ‘Don’t,’ I whispered, as Rhonda stepped back toward the bed. She looked back at the camera for a moment, the pillow held out in front of her like a shield.

  ‘Don’t,’ I heard Madi whisper, her voice cracking. ‘That’s enough … please…’

  Rhonda shoved the pillow back over Sarah’s face. Her flails became wilder, more frantic. And then her limbs stopped moving completely.

  Jessica let go of her arms and then disappeared from the screen. Rhonda glanced back at the camera again, right into the lens, then she removed the pillow from Sarah Goins’ face.

  Madi was panting behind the camera, a strange gurgled sound I’d never heard her make. She zoomed in on Sarah’s face. She was like a doll, still and dreamy as though she’d simply just fallen asleep on my sister’s bed. Like Goldilocks, she was taking a nap after dining on my sister’s porridge…

  ‘Madeline?’ a tiny voice rung out through the speakers.

  ‘Oh, shit,’ Madeline hissed. The camera crashed to the floor.

  ‘Madi, are you okay?’ I could still hear the voice.

  ‘Cover her up before you open the door!’ Rhonda hissed.

  ‘God, your sister is so annoying,’ Jessica muttered.

  It’s me.

  It’s me, standing at the door while they’d just finished killing Sarah Goins.

  The camera was laying sideways, my only view a distorted shot of the closet. But then I heard the creak of a door opening and two pink Nikes filled the screen.

  ‘Madi, do you want to play cards with me?’ I recognized my own desperate, child-like voice.

  ‘No, I don’t. Get out of here, Emily! Get the hell away from me!’ I couldn’t see anything but a side view of my own shoes and youthful legs, but somehow, I could suddenly remember that moment. Her words had stung. They’d hurt me more than anything.

  My sister must have seen the hurt look on my face. ‘Listen. We’ll play later. Me, Jessica, and Rhonda have to go down to the woods now.’

  ‘Can I come?’ the young-me pleaded.

  ‘Not this time. We have to be alone … to work on a school project,’ Madeline explained.

  The feet disappeared, the view of the closet reappearing when my feet stop blocking the screen. I heard the click of the door closing behind the young version of me. I was probably going back to my own room, to sulk.

  ‘Let’s carry Sarah out of here. Madi, you guard your sister’s door, then meet us down in the woods. We can’t wait much longer. Your mom and dad will be coming home soon.’

  I don’t know what Madeline said next because the camera shuffled around again, and then suddenly, Madeline’s fourteen-year old face filled the screen. She looked directly into the camera, her eyes dark and hollow, boring into mine … and then the screen went black again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I waited for what felt like hours, for something else to happen. Finally, I got up and fast forwarded to the end of the tape, almost expecting to see another shot of them burying the body somewhere or killing some other innocent girl.

  There was a click and then the tape ejected itself from the VCR, the finality of it deafening, and all too real.

  I sat back down on Shelley’s bed, clutching the gruesome tape in my hands while my whole body shook uncontrollably. A loud rumble of thunder outside nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. I got back up, flipping on Shelley’s lights and then the lights in the hall. I couldn’t spend time in the dark anymore. In fact, I wanted to wash away the grimy image of that video that was forever burned into my brain…

  My head was throbbing as I stumbled into my sister’s bathroom, searching for that bottle of Ibuprofen. Another clap of thunder rang out. Was that outside or in my head?

  There were only four pills left in the bottle. Tossing the bottle back, I tried to swallow all four, but then I choked and sputtered, suddenly unable to breathe. Like Sarah, my breath was being taken from me…

  I clutched at my throat, panicking, but then the pills dislodged and suddenly, I was okay. Greedily, I drank water from the tap.

  When I was done, I stared at myself in the mirror. My nose, my lips – they were mirror images of Madeline’s. How could someone who looked just like me and grew up in the same house as me, participate in something so evil? She knew they were planning a prank on Sarah. I don’t think she knew Jessica and Rhonda would kill her, but she should have done more to stop it … why didn’t she tell the police, or our parents?

  I thought about my words to Ben the other day, about Madi and I sharing the same blood. How could I share anything with the same person who participated in that heinous act?!

  But I remembered her shaky voice as she held the video recorder, she’d sounded so scared, so shocked … and I had to remember she was only a child herself at the time. What would I have done differently? I wondered. I’d like to think I would have fought them off, encouraged Rhonda not to be pressured into helping, that I would have screamed for help…

  But even now, I could remember that tension Jessica carried around. She set the tone of a room when she walked inside it. She was scary and mean, and no one ever stood up to her. Including me.

  Madi didn’t hold the pillow over Sarah’s face, but she might as well have. She was an accomplice in someone’s murder. Madi obviously lured Sarah over to the house after school – what did she tell her? That they could finally be friends? She tricked her into coming, and then when the prank got out of hand, she did nothing to stop it.

  Remembering the look of hope on Sarah’s face when she passed out those pictures in elementary school, I could only imagine how happy she was when my sister asked her to come over.

  The taste of stomach acid filled the back of my throat. I ran for the toilet, heaving, but nothing came out.

  Eventually, I wandered out of the bathroom, found my way to Ben’s room, and stared at his bed. It wasn’t far off from where my sister’s bed used to be – and the place where Sarah Goins was murdered. How could she let Ben sleep in here after what they did?

  I tried to think back to that time frame, after Sarah went ‘missing’ and I had my head injury … that was around the same time my sister became more distant, and then eventually, she moved her room upstairs for the last few years that she lived here. That was when we became less close, summer sisters no more.

  Was this the secret she wanted to tell me? If so, why did she wait so long to confess?

  ‘I’ve never believed in ghosts,’ I said out loud, to the empty room. ‘But if you’re in here, Sarah, I’m so sorry for what happened to you. For what they did. I wish I could go back and rewind the tape – if I’d have come home just a few seconds sooner, maybe they would have stopped … maybe you would have lived.’

  Suddenly, the lights in the room flickered, and then they flickered again. Rain pounded against the rooftop and thunder roared. I walked through the empty house from my childhood, my eyes glazed over as I pictured Sarah’s flailing limbs as she took her final breaths… Suddenly, I didn’t feel so bad about Rhonda’s death. No wonder she’d killed herself – who could live with that sort of secret? Jessica had wanted Sarah dead and as usual, she’d made Rhonda do her dirty work. No wonder Rhonda was always depressed … living with that sort of guilt couldn’t be easy.

  Thunder boomed again and again, rocking the house to its core. I found myself in t
he middle of the kitchen, my brain pounding against my skull, the world rocking around me as the lights flickered again.

  I glared out the kitchen window, into the darkness of the night and into the middle of a storm – a real one and a metaphorical one. My sister was involved in a murder.

  The trees of the forest were swaying back and forth, a dangerous quality to the way they were leaning. Thunder clapped and then a bolt of lightning struck the sky, lighting up the entire backyard. For a brief second, I saw a moon white face peering out at me through the trees. Sarah Goins is out there, watching me! Haunting our lives forever … and who could blame her if she did?

  Was I going crazy?

  But then another bolt of lightning struck the sky, and I saw the haunted face again.

  Only it wasn’t Sarah’s face peeking out through the trees – it was Jessica Feeler’s.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I should have been frightened. I should have run for my cell phone and called the police, called Paul…

  But for some reason, all I felt was hot white rage surging through me like lightning in my veins. I threw open the back door and stepped out into the raging storm. ‘Jessica!’ I screamed her name into the wind.

  I wasn’t wearing shoes, but I ran toward the woods anyway, broken branches slicing the tops of my toes and sharp, pointy rocks digging into my soles.

  I ran right toward the spot where I’d seen her from the window. ‘Jessica! Come here!’ I screamed again. For a second, I thought she was gone, or that I had been seeing things after all…

  But then I spotted her – she was running toward the beaten main path, her silhouette floating through the trees.

  Still screaming her name, I turned back and ran toward the path. I was younger and faster than she was, and when I reached the open mouth of the woods, I saw her panting at the top of the slope.

  ‘You evil bitch!’ I kicked her as hard as I could with my foot, and watched, in shock, as she tumbled headfirst down the muddy slope. I skidded down behind her and reached the bottom just as she was struggling to pull herself back to her feet.