“After all these years, what does life mean to you? Why do tragedies happen to the sweetest people? Do you feel safe in this world?”

When something happens to someone special does that define you? Should it define us? I am 18 years old and this is my story. I hold the framed picture against my heart. I can feel her spirit everyday. The police could not solver her murder so they just slid her file in a box and never opened it again. They say it was random? They say she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But ,I will not stand for that, not anymore. I have a therapist but it’s not like I tell her anything. I know I need to. I want help I want closure I really do. What if the guy who did this to my mom is still out there? What’s going to happen to me? Everyday I take the big board I have hidden in my closet and stare at it carefully.  Am I putting the rest of my family in danger by investigating this? I did not even get to tell her that I loved her. She would say it everyday, but I would just smile briefly. I just hope she knows that I do/I did and I always will. Why do these things happen? She was innocent she would never hurt anyone. The minute my dad and I got the call and crossed the yellow tape that was the day I realized I wanted to do more with myself. I want to make a difference in the world. After 5 years of obsessing I never got anything. I just do not want to let her down. I could never find out a lead and I just have to tell myself that I never will be able to. What is my story? Why do I exist in this world? What can I do to make a difference? My therapist says that I need to let go of it and have fun. She says she thinks if I am able to get this past me thats how my story will develop. I do not actually think I can let go though. I can still hear the phone ringing in my ear. The worst part of all of this is that she had no idea she was going to die that night.  She was just coming home from work as usual. If it was so random why can they not solve it? Why can’t anyone? Whoever did this was obviously a pro that were able to wipe the surveillance cameras for the time of the murder. Once someone close to you dies their death becomes your first name. You become so obsessive there is no further way to explain  it. My mom valued success and order without a plan she could not breathe.  I remember when I was in fifth grade and felt all alone,she held me close and told me I was going to be okay in this world. She said I would always be stuck with her and no matter what I did I would never be able to push her away. She would always be there. It did not matter if I became a total brat or moved far away. “I will always love you.”

I have looked at all the papers. I have searched through all the stuff in our house looking for a lead. There has to be something to explain it. Why is she mixed up in all this? I have searched my life for a meaning. Why do I exist? How am I so different from everybody else? If this was so random how did the killer know what the cops would go after? This was not just a person mad at the world this guy knows what he is doing. After all this happened it makes me wonder about the good verses the evil. Are we born evil or do we become evil overtime? Why would someone do this? We surround ourselves with the wrong people not knowing who they really are.

It makes my dad upset to even think about her. He pushed all the pictures of her away. I can see it in his eyes that he misses her. I just do not want to let her down. There is still a murderer out there and I will give it everything to find out who it is. This has killed my families spirit and we are just letting it drown us. She was the sweetest person in the world. Her free spirit and happiness was enough to light a candle. I remember back to my first day of kindergarten. I was scared by the look of the big yellow vehicle that did not even have the decency to stop and wait for me. I mean I was rushing down the driveway. Hello? How could I be anymore clear? I was upset about being late and full of worries and possibilities. She looked me straight in the eye and said quietly.

“Life is about taking chances, anxiety is part of these challenges. It will not be easy and life will make you crazy, but never give up. You need to succeed obstacles to have any fun.”

Thirteen years later and it’s me. Her life resulted about never giving in to your doubts but fighting them. Sometimes I wonder if that stubbornness is what got her killed. She had a heart of gold and a beautiful outlook about her. Even though she is gone her loyalty will never be able to disappear.

I wake up in the middle of the night to a phone ringing so loud the house is vibrating. This flashes me back to the terrible evening that took place 5 years ago. My dad had just gotten home from work. He was making dinner when we got the call. I answer the phone shaking.

Where is my dad?
He was supposed to be home an hour ago.
Oh my goodness, no please no. Not again I can not deal with this again! I hear the voice erupt slowly on the other end. I cry and can feel my heart bouncing up and down so hard it is going to explode. The minute I hear “I am so sorry’’ I crawl in the middle of the room. The flood of my tears is killing my family. I grab my car I got for my birthday and rush down the highway. I get to the small room where I see my dad. I can not help from crying as I see the scars up and down his arms as the blood spirals out and the bruises enhance. They say he ran his car into another car on purpose? They say they think it was a suicide attempt? Why would he do that?
Dad? Dad please wake up. I love you.
He looks at me slowly watching the river run down my face. He grabs my hand and holds it for a second and then the words I have been searching for come out and I can hardly breathe.

“I have to tell you something, your mom’s heart stopped when she saw me that night.”
Dad what are you saying?
I say my eyes full of tears and confusion.
‘’I did not mean to kill her, but I did, but things happen in life that you can not explain.” 
He let go of my hand and his heart stopped and at that point his spirit died as well.

I want to hide to escape. I keep thinking about my mother. She would tell me to keep going  no matter what. I walk into Mrs. Lime’s office  almost in tears. I searched my life for an answer to the tragic murder of my biggest fan. When she died I relied on my dad. And now they are both gone and the world seems so empty. I sat in this very chair trying to find closure, but when I did I wished I had never looked into it in the first place. How did this happen? Why did this happen? I wonder as I sit in the blank chair full of memories, pain, and sorrow.

“ I know this has been hard for you, but why do you think this all happened? How has all of this reflected on you?’’ the therapist repeats to me.

Well it was really hard at first. I felt like my story had been taken away from me. My mom was the main character in my life. She taught me that there is a special key in life that can and will get you through anything if you can grasp hold of it. That key is your soul she would say.  She told me to follow my heart but to also track my brain. “You can not runaway from life or hide. You must face your fears. And if you can do all that you will notice your self esteem will glide more steady. That right there is the key of life.”
I feel the artificial wind blow against my face. I watch the silver fan holding back my tears. This summer was the summer I got justice for my mother. My mom would be looking down at me right now and cheering until she fell down. If she were still alive today she would tell me that even though the outcome was unfortunate it shows us that you can be the best person you can be, but you are aloud to get angry and upset thats the part of life we look forward to and try to achieve most in this non ending cycle we call life. Except life will end for all of us. We will pass and others will soon after, but we still have to be our best self to save our future generations from hunger, greed, and anger. A lot of people would see my life as a reason to go curl up and never get out of my house ever again. There are times I have just wanted to do this. What keeps me going is my mother she would keep going through all the pain. I kept looking for a meaning in life, a reason that shows that I am special and I do belong here. I never saw this until I found out who killed her, but I was passed down the meaning. You do not need a talent or a certain personality to know you belong you just need a soul and thanks to my mom I have found one. This summer has resulted in many tears and anger, but I would have to say it was the best summer because it showed me I did not need vacations or whistles I needed to save my moms memory, but in the end she wound up saving me.

~Sincerely yours,
Vale December.