Because of Mr. Death

Author's Note:  This is a piece from the point of view of Mrs.Boyd; the mother of one of the murder victims in Mr. Death's Blue-eyed Girls.  

I watch with a sinking feeling in my stomach as the two girls go to find out what happened.  Their ponytails bob hypnotically as they run towards the park.  I don't know what's happening, but I have this sickening thought that it's about Bobbi Jo.  Julie grabs tighter on my neck; worried, but not terrified like I am.  I shouldn’t have let Bobbi Jo go to school with Cheryl today. She finished yesterday; why did she need to go see Cheryl's high school?  The thought keeps nagging at me that something has happened to her and it was my fault for letting her go.  I suddenly realize that Ellie and Nora had been gone for over fifteen minutes.  Something terrible has happened.  More than the usual fire or car accident.  They're too horrified to come back and tell me.  I nearly choke on my next breath as I start to grasp why they don't want to tell me what happened.  Bobbi Jo.  She still isn't back and it's after one o'clock in the afternoon.  I don't want to let myself believe it, but the idea is dark and heavy, like a storm cloud.  The wailing sirens drown out any other noise.  I hold my youngest son and daughter closer to me, but I feel completely alone.  The dense summer air nearly suffocates me.  I stand there helpless.

 A solemn police officer walks slowly up to my gate, not wanting to deliver the awful news.  I can't hear more than a word or two of what he's saying, but it still echoes in my head.  Bobbi Jo.  Dead.  Shot.  Path. Woods.  Dead.  Despite the ninety degree weather, a shiver runs up my spine like an icy spider.    I raise my hand to wipe away the tears that I had not realized sliding down my cheek.  I feel frozen in time, in that one moment, for what feels like hours.  I will never see Bobbi Jo again.  Never talk to her.  Never hear her laugh.  Her life is over.  Before it even really began.  Why do the worst things happed to the most undeserving people?  A fragile piece of my heart breaks as I turn away from the park.  I open the front door.  Still stunned.  Still not wanting to believe it.  Still not ready to go on with the rest of my life.