Winter Blues

Vivian dragged me out to the mall a few days ago, saying that it was more than time to get into the Christmas spirit and. I was surprised to see the rest of the gang loitering in the Cold Stone Creamery.

None of this is easy on anyone, and I appreciated what they did. We hacked around, playing with the cosmetics, trying on the clothes, listening to the cheerful music. Hell, we even joked about going to see Santa. It never materialized due to the long as hell line, but watching the kids' eyes light up when they get to tell the big guy what they want was magic in and of itself.

I had forgotten to tell them about my dream, but at that moment it didn't matter. Nightmares had no place there.

Christmas will be strange, though. Catherine is never going to come through that door, smiling and in her best outfit, to spend the holiday together. The Moores have long since move away and I haven't heard from them in a while. I don't blame them, honestly. I most likely remind them of the life they could have had. I want to wish them a merry Christmas.

Please, I beg of everyone: don't take your loved ones for granted. I know you get those words probably all the time, because it's true. I would give anything to have my Catherine back.

So I want to wish everyone a Happy Christmahanakwanzikamas.

Wake the Dreamer

Last night I had a pretty intense dream. The kind that you honestly think is real and you can't believe it's happening.

I was in the forest, walking calmly along what could have passed for a path, if there wasn't so much brush in the way. However, I knew the entire time that something was following me, yet I kept walking as if nothing was wrong. I heard whispers from all around me, and this time I could make out what they were saying:

"Her?"

"Her."

"Yes."

"Embrace it."

"...across space and time..."

"Don't fear [???] happens is the will of [???]."

"...darkness, grime and gloom..."

"...come, let us..."

I began to feel like I was suffocating; the more I walked the more I felt like I should run. But dreams are dreams and they have laws you can't break. I raised my head and saw...people, hundreds of them, standing as if they were statues. I couldn't make out their expressions though I walked passed them easily.

But the moment I got passed more than a dozen I felt a burning cold hand grab my upper arm and drag me back. The still people began to move, their faces ugly and frightening as they descended upon me.

My heart jolted me awake and I spent the rest of the night awake. The back of my head tingled like someone was running their long fingers through the wrinkles of my brain.

What was that?

Thanks for Giving

Sorry that I haven't gotten the video up yet. Something is wrong with it and it's fighting me tooth and nail. I won't do what I want it to do and it was going crazy at some points...really crazy.

But in any case, I'll try to get it up. I want to film some more, but hopefully around less woods and more people. I went to Dr. Frey's office on Tuesday for a session with him and met his two daughters. Holy crap, what sweethearts! Justine and Juliette are so kind and so wonderful that I felt safe with them. I would have opened up to them if I could, but their pleased father ushered me into his office.

"How are you, Elizabeth?" he asked, "And I mean it. How are you?"

My voice was tight, "Not good. I've just been so utterly stressed and sad that it's overwhelming. I haven't had a moment's peace of mind for a while now. It's just eating me alive."

"The last we spoke you were raving about a Tall Man, and I have to admit, in my desperation I acted very well out of line. I hope you can forgive my slip up."

"It's not a problem. I understand."

"Good, good. But you were talking about the black thing that Catherine 'saw' a while back. Have you been seeing it at all recently?" he leaned forward and I shook my head.

I shifted in my chair and said, "No, I haven't. But something strange happened when I was taking a walk...on Catherine's birthday. I had a breakdown and asked her to forgive me for not acting sooner and stuff. Then I, ah, walked some more and saw this robin, this poor thing was on this rock altar all bloodied and surrounded by glass and mirror shards. It was just--I can't describe how creeped out I was."

Dr. Frey blanched at the description, "What in Heaven's name was that all about? Who would do something like that, in a park trail no less where children might see? It seems just...too strange."

"I know, right? But I kept walking, and I felt this sense of being unwelcome, like I had just walked into someone's home uninvited and just wandered around the place. It got so bad I just ran out of there. And would you believe the whole park was empty? It was still kind of early, so it was so strange. I had my camera with me and, well, I heard the sound of people whispering to one another. I couldn't get out much of what they were saying, though."

The doctor collected himself and nodded, "Elizabeth, it was good of you to get out and take a walk. I commend you for doing something to improve yourself. However, after thinking about it, maybe the bird was a prop and the blood was fake? Many teenagers find humor in shocking others. The talking was either some mild auditory hallucination or even people who hid out of sight."

"But I didn't see anyone. And--and there was distortion on my camera when those things happened. "

He wiped his glasses on his sleeve, and returned them to their casing. "It's called a coincidence, Elizabeth. Please understand that you might be overanalyzing things due to Catherine's death. She saw and heard something that didn't exist, so you are inappropriately hyper vigilant for anything that resembles it, if only to tell yourself that Catherine didn't have an illness that needed to be treated. You aren't honoring her memory by doing this, Elizabeth. Focus on her, on her life with you, and don't be afraid to find the strength to move on."

As I listened to him I bowed my head and stared at my sneakers, tears forming in my eyes. Before I even knew it I covered my face in my hands and cried.

"I want her back! I want my Catherine back!" I wailed.

Dr. Frey got out of his chair and rubbed my back, soothing me and handing me tissue after tissue. I don't remember what he said, I was crying to loud to hear properly, but I appreciated every single word. I wish I could say I felt a gigantic weight lift off of me, but I did feel small pieces of it come off. Baby steps.

I wiped my eyes and blew my nose, admittedly very loudly. "I think that's enough for today, Elizabeth." he said in a calm tone. "How about we continue a few weeks from now, is that alright? I know you're in school so I want to make sure that an appointment doesn't conflict with your schedule."

I mumbled that it would be good and made an appointment.As I walked out Juliette and Justine were there, hugging me and asking what was wrong. I damn near almost cried again from just how caring they were. I said my goodbyes and walked back to my car, feeling better but not completely well.

I'm going to get there.

[EDIT: the final time I tried to edit the video something bizarre happened: during the last frames I heard something I didn't before: low, dark laughter. After that the video just...suddenly deleted itself. I have no idea what that was or if I'm going crazy. Hopefully I can do more videos without insane stuff going on. Preferably not around woods.)

The Walk

Something strange happened on the day I took my walk. You noticed that I didn't do my usual birthday post on the 20th, Catherine's birthday. I decided I needed to get some fresh air and clear my head, despite the fact that this anxiety refuses to budge.

I drove to the park listening to my music player, but other than the sounds of my favorite artists I was completely silent. I parked my car and ignored the sounds of happy children playing. I decided to walk down one of the many wooded paths the park had to offer. As I wandered aimlessly, I finally collapsed onto my knees and cried, long and hard, on the forest floor. I didn't care if someone saw or heard me--I needed this. I begged Catherine to forgive me, I begged her to not be dead and to come back, I apologized over and over again to the empty autumn air. After what seemed like hours, I got up, dusted myself off, and continued walking.

I found, nestled beneath a big oak, an eerie shrine that reminded me too much of the white tree. On this stone altar I saw a dead robin surrounded by bloodies glass and mirrors. The poor thing looked like it had struggled before its untimely death. More of those strange, unknown words were seemingly carved onto the rocks. Understandably, I backed away from it and kept walking. Yet after seeing that morbid display, I felt like I was being watched, not by a single person, but by many. I got this unsettling feeling that I was an uninvited guest in an inhospitable home. Eventually I became so uncomfortable that I just left.

Have you ever gotten the feeling that you were being followed, even though when you turn around there is no one there? I couldn't shake that even if I tried, and when I reached the mouth of the forest I was surprised to see the park deserted. It was barely three o' clock and it shouldn't have been this...empty.

I ran to my car and raced home.

I recorded what happened on my camera, but something's wrong with the video. Some parts are distorted and I can almost make out human speech at some parts. This is insane.

Unprepared

Catherine's birthday is on the 20th. I'm not ready for it.

Her parents are moving out of the county--they said that they just couldn't stay here anymore. Mrs. Moore told me how much she wished I could have been her daughter in law. They're leaving after her birthday to northern Jersey, and I feel that their leaving is just making everything worse.

My girls aren't dealing with Catherine's death any better than I am. A few days ago when I carpooled with Florence and Naomi one of Catherine's favorite songs came on the radio. Florence immediately shut it off and I heard Naomi begin to cry. Her tears were infectious: Florence and I began to sob as well.

During a spontaneous trip to the mall, Rebecca, Vivian and I just barely got to shopping before we saw this beautiful purple dress. It would have fit Catherine like a glove. I just couldn't deal with it any more. I just collapsed right there in the busy mall and the poor girls had to nearly carry me out. I felt terrible for ruining what should have been a pleasant day. But they weren't looking any better than I was.

Everywhere we go something reminds us of Catherine. I've failed her.

I've been trying to move on, but time isn't making things better. It's just making this irreparable wound fester. Dr. Frey told me that this was normal and that I would eventually heal from it. How? How can I heal from this? How can I move on knowing that the love of my life was probably kidnapped, held against her will and then was either driven to suicide or straight up murdered? Time will ever heal this.

I need to take a long walk.

Happy Birthday, Rebecca!

Happy Friday the 13th, girlie. I know you're not superstitious, but damn, we just couldn't help but make some jokes about it. Thanks for asking about how I was doing, even though you could tell I was lying through my teeth. It was your special day, and I didn't want to ruin it. Did you like the gardening tips book we got you? Now's the time for planting any seeds you want in your beloved garden, so use that to the best of your ability.

A Call From Dr. Frey

I apologize for not updating either my blog or my video channel all that much. I've been pretty depressed for a long while and it doesn't look like it's going away any time soon. I don't want to be a broken record, since you all know what's been going on.

Nine days after the funeral, Dr. Frey called me on my cell to see how I was. He was very concerned about me, asking various questions about my mental state.

"I know that this is all so troubling for you, Elizabeth," he said calmly. "I did everything I could to help her, everything and more. This tragedy is weighing heavily on my mind, as well. The only solace in any of this is that she is at peace. Catherine told me that you're a firm believer in Heaven, so here is what I want you to do: turn to your faith for comfort. Pray for her and yourself.

"Dr. Frey," I said weakly, "Do you think that there is something that we're missing? Maybe it wasn't a suicide at all; maybe someone killed her. I can't believe that she would do such a thing."

"Killed her?" he repeated, "no, I don't believe so. It's unfortunate to say, but it is an open and shut case of suicide. She most likely drove off long enough to get out of the state, then probably hitchhiked her way across the country to Arizona. She was emaciated, wasn't she? Her deteriorating mind must have turned against her and...well..." Dr. Frey didn't finish the sentence.

I continued, "But they never found the knife that she used. Why is that? And why go to Arizona, of all places?"

"I can't answer those questions, and as for the knife, it is curious that it wasn't recovered. The police searched the place high and low and found nothing, I heard. The wound on her belly still remains unexplained. Everyone is puzzled by it, even the police. But cases like these happen, Elizabeth. I can't guess as to who did it or why. Perhaps a wild animal? Yes, that could be it. Though I'm too unfamiliar with that area to make a proper assessment." the doctor finished.

Tears forming in my eyes quickly as I swallowed a lump in my throat. "What do you think about the creature Catherine was seeing? I know that she was going as far as to draw the damn thing, over and over and over again.

"I can tell you this: there is no Fear Dubh. No Tall Man, no...whatever people want to call it. It's all fiction, products of an overactive imagination. Catherine was seriously ill and hallucinating this thing."

"But I think I saw it, too!"

He paused for a moment,"How recently was this? Have you seen it since?"

"I saw it before Catherine...went away. It was standing under the streetlight, though it wasn't doing anything. I haven't seen it since then, though."

"Elizabeth, listen to me. I don't want you to forget Catherine and all the good times you had with her, but I do want you to forget about this Fear Dubh. It's a made up boogeyman invented by frustrated parents to keep their children from misbehaving. Anyone who claims to have seen it is either looking for attention or in dire need of psychiatric help. Please don't drive yourself mad trying to put the pieces together," he pleaded with me. "Focus on yourself, on your friends and family. On your education!"

"I will, I promise. But there's something else I need to tell you. At the wake and funeral, I saw three strange looking women. I never saw them before until then. What do you think of that?"

The doctor let out a long sigh, "They were most likely death enthusiasts. You know the type: go to funerals, wear all black, write poetry pertaining to how useless life is. I'm sure they do this all the time. They didn't cause a riot, did they?"

"No, thank God. They just stood there, watching it all happen."

"Well then, I recommend that you forget about those girls. If they didn't cause trouble, then it's for the best you put them out of your thoughts. And your seeing this black creature only tells me that Catherine's illness must have affected you in some way, a foile a deux, if you will. If this happens again, call me and I'll have someone pencil in an appointment."

I nodded, "Alright, I'll make sure to remember that. Even though I'm still curious about whatever Catherine was obsessing over. I'm still trying to find that book she bought."

"Elizabeth, I'm being completely serious. Don't go chasing fairy tales." he was very stern, adamant that I not do any more research on it. "You won't find anything and you'll only be wasting your time."

"Okay. I won't, Doctor. Thanks for yo--"

"Don't do it."

"Alright, I understand. Thank you the--"

"Don't."

"Okay! I get it, Doctor. I'll...I'll  forget about it."

"You're very welcome. I have to get going now, another patient is due in ten minutes. We'll talk another time, alright? Have a lovely day and think positive."

And with that, the call ended.

Three Women

Here is the video that I promised to put out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XL_OotuunU8

The women that I saw were very strange and very quiet. They didn't say a word or interact with anyone, but I did see them smirk a few times.

It seemed that my girls and I were the only ones who noticed them. Florence said that she should've gone and talked to them, if only to find out what their deal was. I wanted to, as well, but I just didn't have the energy to do much of anything but mourn.

Update

It's been almost a full week since the wake and funeral, and I haven't been doing too well. I've been in a nigh catatonic state, depressed beyond belief and even thought of suicide.

However, I just can't find it in me to actually do it. I have family and friends who are still alive and still love me, and it would kill them if I died as well.

The Moores are absolutely devastated. Those poor people, to lose their only child like that. Their eyes were so dead and empty, they barely registered any emotion at all other than sadness. And there isn't much I can do to comfort them.

I did record myself after I returned home, and I will put it up soon. I've just been trying to find my footing again

Arizona

A part of me doesn't want to do this. A part of me doesn't even want to repeat what I know, just because it is so wrong.

But you've all been there for me, so I suppose I owe you this.

These cross-country explorers found her in the long abandoned Seneca Lake Trading Post. According to them, they were going in to take some pictures and film silly stuff when they were overcome by the stench of death. One of the braver members of the group went into the dining hall and found my Catherine, face up in an ocean of blood. After calming down they called the police, who sealed off the area and then called Mrs. Moore. The explorer crew admitted to the police that they had taken pictures out of sick curiosity; obviously the cops told them to hand the pictures over once they were developed.

I'm not sure if I want to see them.

What was truly disturbing were how she died: the police say that Catherine had slit her own throat with a seven inch blade, which killed her within mere seconds. But there was one other wound: a deep and long cut across her stomach, so much so that someone was able to reach into her body and mess around with her organs. Surprisingly and unsettlingly, not a single one was missing. To add salt to the wound her precious engagement ring was gone.

Just writing that made me physically ill. Who would do that to someone as sweet as Catherine?

The wake is today and the funeral tomorrow. Maybe I will compose myself just enough to make a video, but no promises.

Announcement

On July 7,  Mrs. Moore called to tell me the news I had been dreading to hear: Catherine had been found dead across the country in Arizona. Though she didn't give me the exact length of time she had been lying dead there, Mrs. Moore did say that it had been a while. I broke down then and there, throwing the phone and screaming myself hoarse.

I lost my best friend, my soul mate, my twin flame, my fiancée. I lost someone I will never get back. I lost a piece of myself. Mrs. Moore also had to call the rest of my friends, and it's been a spiraling nightmare.

I don't know if I want to go into detail as who how she died...it's quite brutal. Maybe when the news has processed I will share it, but the police believe that it was a suicide.

The wake and funeral will be in a few days, but the police still have no leads as to what lead up to her death.

I also decided to use YouTube as a way of talking to you all, in memory of our original plan. Thank you all for reading this blog, though I might still have use for it, I suppose.

The first video is found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmJePR5i9Gs&feature=youtu.be

 

Anxiety

I had a severe anxiety attack on June 11, the day Catherine and I were to be married a year ago. I didn't have to go to the hospital or anything, but it was like nothing I've ever had before. I was just sitting on my bed when suddenly I couldn't breath. My entire body as shaking and I felt like I was going to collapse. There was this weird feeling of being overheated and frozen at the same time.

It lasted for nine minutes, which to me felt like a never ending hell. After I finally calmed down I got myself a glass of water and listened to some soothing music, which helped a ton. Even though it was three days ago, it still haunts me. I honestly felt like I was going to die.

Happy Birthday, Vivian!

Hey, girl! I hope that you liked the new CDs we all got you. We all pitched it to get your favorites. And we loved the mix tape you made. You're going places!

I didn't update for my birthday due to the fact that nothing of note happened. I hung out with my girls and did the usual birthday stuff. It was fun. The feeling that I spoke about before didn't quite go away, but it has ebbed. I haven't been updating because I feel I have said everything about this subject as I can.

One thing that really spooked me, though, was on May 19. I was sitting on a park bench, just playing with my phone, when I got this terrible sensation of dread and sorrow. I nearly had a mental breakdown right there. The feeling was just so overwhelming that I had to find a secluded space to get it all out.

Never in my entire life have I felt that...well, that god-awful. It nearly took me an hour to calm down. What's weird is that I was thinking about Catherine all day, and then that just hit me out of nowhere. Even though I want to brush it off as nerves or whatever, nothing about it felt normal.

1 Year Anniversary

One year ago I started this blog to get my story out there, to see if Catherine would see it and come back. I'm no closer to the truth. The cops aren't, we aren't. Yet I get this strange, ominous feeling of doom, and I can't explain it. It's like that feeling you get on a cold, winter night, when the chill is getting into your bones and the wind is outside rustling the bare tree branches.

I haven't had any dreams at all. Strange.

Something is coming.

Happy Birthday, Florence!

Breaking my silence to wish Florence a happy 23rd birthday. She's going to go places, that girl. With her mind and willpower she could take over the corporate world overnight, even. I hope that you will enjoy your birthday and the new comic books we all got you! We remembered not to get any Spider-Man for you this time...you still haven't forgiven One More Day, and we respect that.

Wrap Up

So here I am, almost two years later, with no word from Catherine or about her. No amount of searching and looking and tracking down any and all leads that eventually lead to nowhere is helping. The police are trying, that I know, but they can only try for so long with no results before it becomes a cold case. The chance that we see her alive again gets dimmer and dimmer with each passing day. But I never lose hope. I don't know if that makes me optimistic or stupid. Maybe both.

I still go to the Moore's house when I can to just talk with them. I can see just how hard this is on them; they, like me, still cling to the hope that she's out there, wanting to come home.

It doesn't get better, or easier, or anything that someone could bear for a long time. I feel so lonely without my better hald. Without the help of my dearest family and friends, I most likely would have spiraled into a suicidal depression. And girls? Thank you so much for telling to go write about my feelings. I love you all.

I don't know what I'm going to do with this blog, since I feel that I have gotten everything I could out to the world. I might update sporatically if anything comes up.

I will always love you, Catherine. We always will.

Happy Birthday, Naomi!

Happy birthday, girlie. I hope that the tea collection we gave you was just want you wanted for your 23rd birthday. That sushi restaurant you picked ouy was amazing! I can see why you go there almost all the time. Here's to a happy year for you, girlie.

Reactions

Something wasn't right about that call. It didn't sit right with me or anyone else who knew her. For the most part I was still in a state of shock, moving around like I was half-dead and having sleep avoiding me like the plague. It couldn't have been anyone else on that phone except for her, so I ruled out an imposter. I know Catherine's voice by heart; that was defininely her breaking it off with me. Saying I was heartbroken was the biggest understatement of the goddamn century.

Her parents were beyond devastated, nothing in the world could comfort them. Abigail and Christian, people I loved as if they were my own parents, hired anyone they could think of to assist in finding Catherine. The psychics they had help them frantically abandoned ship after doing a thorough reading, leaving so quickly and their faces pale and full of unimaginable fear. They called at a later date telling them something evil was out there, but then never elaborating. It got so bad that I felt a full on mental breakdown coming to claim us all.

"She left of her own accord, that's true," Naomi said one day, rubbing my back as I cried over a cup of tea. "but I can't fathom the reasoning behind it. Some things just don't add up. I believe you when you say she called, we all do. But something isn't right."

"I know," I sobbed. "I know! And nothing makes sense! It just came out of nowhere, Mi! I asked her questions and--and she sounded so cold. I begged, I pleaded..." I paused to sniffle, "it was a nightmare."

She nodded, "The police can't track the cell, so maybe she destroyed it after she called you. I'm not sure." I could see on Naomi's face that she was trying to find the right words to ease me. With her vast vocabulary and keen intuition, she typically did. But this time, nothing would come to her."Oh, Ellie. It must be so hard right now. I'm just so sorry."

Florence let out an angered huff, "I'm going to bet that someone put a gun to her head and forced her to read a script.  She didn't want to leave, but was forced to. We know Catherine far too well to think that this is normal. But maybe....just maybe, she had to take her fight somewhere else. I don't know." Behind her demeanor, I could see frustration and anger at not knowing building inside. Florence was one who loved having answers for people, to contribute to the conversation, so when a topic would come up in which she didn't have any sort of comment on, it would dampen her usually fiery spirit.

"Somehow, I get the feeling that there is more to this than meets the eye. There might have been something else that she wasn't telling us, or maybe she herself didn't know about. Why would she call you up to say those cruel things? I just can't imagine..." Rebecca's voice trailed off, directing her attention to the uneaten sponge cake on her plate. To her, there was nothing that couldn't be broken down logically. Except for this instance.

And Vivian, who had been listening and restlessly tapping her fingers against the table surface said, "I'm going to second everyone else's statement, Liz. I mean, unless she's going to call back hopefully soon and clear up any doubts, I don't know what to say." she chucked her soda can into the garbage, completely defeated by this scenario. "This sucks more than anything that has every sucked before."

It got a little chuckle from us, though it was one of agreement than one of mirth. They were trying so hard to find answers that would work, that would explain things, to ease not only me but themselves. Find some method in the madness. It was fruiltless.

I would have to call everyone on the guest list to tell them that the wedding was off and cancel the reservation at the modest hall we reserved. I would need to call off all of the plans we had made and focus on trying to find her. Once we track down where she is, I thought, then I can finally ask her all these questions, and I can get answers. That is what will happen. Don't give up hope. Don't. Give. Up. Hope.

When I was at the police station, I heard Officer Tammet once say, when she thought that I was out of eartshot, "You know, what this sounds like is that this mentally ill girl couldn't handle the stress of a wedding and marriage, so she just up and left. Shit, it sucks, but I bet that Rosenthal girl can do better. I wouldn't want to be dragged down by all that, and neither should she."

I wanted to slap her so hard. Catherine never had a history of mental illness until recently. Even then, it wasn't her fault. To make things worse, another police woman said, "Yeah, to me we should stop looking for her. It's pretty clear now that the girl wasn't in her right mind. Best to just move on and see if there are people we can actually help and not waste any more time."

If I had the ability to kill with a single look those two would have been gone. I just couldn't believe how casual they treated this subject, even when they believed that I couldn't hear them! Disgusted, I walked out of the station to my car and was nearly about to drive off when a horrible thought struck me: Kidnapped! She was must have been kidnapped!

Without stopping I raced back inside, nearly breathless as I said, "Please, please let me speak to someone.It's about my fiancee, yes. Listen, I think she might have been kidnapped. What do we do?"

I spoke to one of the troopers that were assigned to the case, and after I had finished expalining my thoughts, he said, "Yes, but this is a strange case, Miss Rosenthal. Any leads we find--which are not many, I have to be honest--just go straight to a dead end. Kidnapping might very well be a possibility, but have you looked into the option that she might have not wanted to get married? Or that there was someone else you didn't know about?"

I didn't even blink when I said that no, Catherine had desired for a marriage with me for a long time and that I had no idea if there was anyone else, but I doubted it. The trooper moisted his lips before continuing, "Dr. Frey has lent us the files on her, and it seemed that her mentall illness was getting worse. Auditory and visual hallucinations, paranoia, insomnia, bounts of amnesia, violent and bloody coughing fits...she had problems, Miss Rosenthal. It wasn't getting better. We will try to find her as best we can, but like I said, all clues lead to nowhere. And didn't she break it off with you, saying that you shouldn't try and find her? Maybe that's what she wants. Go home. If anything turns up, we will let you know, alright?"

He gave me a comforting pat on the shoulders and escorted me out of the bulding, which was very kind of him. I drove home, walked up to my room and cried.

Post Valentine's Day Blues

So yesterday marked the second Valentine's Day I have spent without Catherine. Two. It's so hard to comprehend how much time has passed when it feels like an eternity. Even though life appears to have gone on, it has been killing me slowly.

For those of you out there lucky to have their loved ones near them, cherish them. Be with them, and always let them know how much you love them.

The Call

Faster than I could process,  I picked up the call and pressed the phone to my ear. "Catherine? Where are you? Are you alright? Please tell me your coming home now."

All I heard was her heavy breathing, as if she had run hundreds miles without stopping. I couldn't detect anything else besides that.

"Elizabeth..." she said, catching her breath, "I'm done."

Done? Done with what? "Are...are you finished with whatever you needed to do? Are you coming back?"

"No!" I had never heard her sound so angry. "No, I'm not coming back. I'm done with you, I'm done!"

What did she just say? I must have mumbled something deliriously, as she continued.

"Our engagement is off, Elizabeth. I want nothing more to do with you or our little circle, understand?"

If I had been shot in the knees, the stomach or even the chest, it would have hurt less that Catherine's words. The harsh edge to her voice cut through me without any effort. It couldn't been happening. Maybe it was a joke...a sick joke. "Wha...why? Why?"

It sounded like she snorted, as if the reason should have been as obvious as 'the sky is blue,' "I don't need to elaborate, alright? I don't want to be engaged to you any longer. I'm done. Why can't you just respect that?"

This blindsided me completely. Even as I felt my heart breaking I didn't stop talking, "What's the matter? Why are you doing this? I need an answer, Catherine, please. I-Is there someone else? I don't...I don't understand at all, okay? Are you even feeling alright? I can't understand why you're doing this. I love you, Catherine. You know how much I do." I couldn't stop. I don't remember what else I said, other than pleas, declarations of love, platitudes, desires for an explanation and pauses to see if she would respond at all. I must have sounded so pathetic.

Through my weeping, Catherine managed to say four last words: "Don't look for me."

She hung up the phone. I fell to my knees. And I couldn't feel anything besides sorrow. Calling her back did nothing but go straight to voicemail. I told everyone what happened, much to their surprise and confusion. Why did Catherine do that? What was the purpose? Hypothesis after hypothesis was thrown around, yet none of them sounded right.  There was no evidence to back up what we thought, and so our misery had been increased fifty-fold.

The police couldn't track her by the cell; something made it impossible, they said. They tried and tried yet nothing. I had such a panic attack that day I collapsed in a heap.

I don't think Catherine was in her right mind, that or someone put a gun to her head and told her to say that. She would never say those things to me, that I know.

Last Supper

And then, for a while, there was nothing. Another dry spell came, but didn't last long. That seemed to be the pattern: Catherine would be tormented, a break would happen, and then it would start up again. Whatever else this thing was, it was a sadist through and through. It had an agenda.

September ended and October was just beginning. I had asked her what she would like most for her upcoming birthday; be it jewelry, clothes or a flowery branch. She shrugged and said that anything from me would do. Catherine had resumed living with her parents, their eyes protectively watching over her and being there in case she ever needed them.

But she began to act quietly, not talking for long periods of time. Now usually it's not cause for alarm, especially considering everything that had happened, but this wasn't the usual kind of self-reflecting; it was far more silent, like a snowy and gelid winter day. But never was she hostile or confrontational towards me or anyone else.

I invited the other girls to the house for dinner to surprise Catherine one time, and for the most part she seemed very pleased with it. She and Mom cooked dinner despite our desire to help. "Let the masters do the work, Liz," my mom said playfully. We set the table and enjoyed the fine meal that we had waited for all evening. The dinner was spent happily chatting and commenting and making jokes. After we had all ate, as she and I were cleaning the plates and bowls, Catherine said, "Thanks for inviting them over. It's nice having everyone together."

"Hey, anything for you. I'm just happy that you're happy." It was true; I was thrilled that she was smiling again, really smiling. It gave me hope.

We were so full that unfortunately dessert had to be skipped, and instead after-dinner cordials were sipped from cute glasses as we watched silly videos on YouTube. I forget exactly what it was, only that it included 'epic fails' of people hurting themselves. We were laughing so hard that we had to stop watching it to catch our breaths and not spill our drinks on anything.

The only one who didn't show any emotion was Catherine. I saw her stare blankly at the screen, sometimes a little smile tugging at her lips, but not the full-blown laughter like I had seen before. Her eyes wandered from me, to our group, to the room, to finally being laid downcast. I would have given anything to know what she was thinking then. Maybe I could have done more.

Florence nudged her shoulder, "Yo, Cath? What's the matter? You look really out of it."

From that she was roused from her stupor and blinked, "Wha...? Oh. Yeah, I was just thinking."

"What were you thinking about?" I said, pausing the video and giving her 100% of my attention.

She stared down at her unfinished cordial, swirling the liquid back and forth, "I was just thinking about you guys, that's all. I'm lucky to have friends that are so understanding; any others would have kicked me to the curb. It's nice knowing who you can count on."

Immediately I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "You know that we're always going to be there, no matter what."

We assured her that we would always be there for her no matter what, no matter the stakes. I could saw tears in her eyes forming as we talked.

Eventually it got so late that the girls had to leave. Florence had been nice enough to let Vivian, Naomi and Rebecca carpool with her to my house, efficiently saving time, money and gas for the three of them. We walked to her car that was carefully behind Catherine's

As Naomi eased herself into the front seat she asked, "You alright to drive, Flo?"

"I'm perfectly fine. You know that I drive better when I'm tipsy." With a shrug and a laugh, Florence opened the driver's side door and was ready to place the key into the ignition.

In seconds Rebecca snatched the keys right out of Florence's hand, "Alright, then I'm driving. I don't want you to risk it."

"I'm going to guess that she was making a dumb comment, Becks, so you can calm down." Vivian folded her arms on the top of the car, an amused grin forming on her face. "Florence knows her limits, though."

Throughout this exhange, Naomi was giggling behind her hand. She wasn't one to get upset easily, which has always been one of her strengths. Catherine entered in, "Florence only had a few small glasses; I think that she's more than capable to drive. But that's just me."

Rebecca thought about it, her brow furrowed. Finally, she  handed the keys back to Florence. "I trust you. But please drive safely."

With that agreement, Florence resumed her rightful place as the driver. "I will. And if I swerve or anything, I'll pull over and you can drive. Is that good?"

"Deal."

Catherine and I waved until we couldn't see them anymore, in which we then went back inside, closed the door and collapsed on the couch. She asked if she could sleep over for the night, and I readily agreed. We changed into our sleepwear (I usually gave her a pair of my pajamas if she didn't bring her own; she and I were the same size) and cozied up to re-read our favorite childhood book, The Velveteen Rabbit.

When we finished the Catherine said to me softly"Elizabeth, even after all that's happened, you still love me?"

It was beyond a no-brainer. Never once did I think about leaving her or even stop loving her. She wasn't at fault for any of what happened. All Catherine was doing was desperately try to keep on keeping on while this thing attempted to ruin her life. Was I frustrated? Yes, but not at Catherine. "Of course I do. I really do. Why do you ask?"

Catherine looked at me, a relieved smile on her face, "Just making sure. I love you, too." she kissed me, placed the book back onto the self and walked to the door, shutting off the light completely."Go to sleep, Ellie. It's late; I'll be right back."

I did so, closing my eyes and waiting for her to come back. I was so tired that I was on the border of sleep and awake when I felt her come back.

It would be the last time I would ever see her.

I woke up the next day alone; Catherine and her car were gone. The pajamas I lent her were neatly folded in the bathroom and nothing seemed amiss. At first I believed that she has woken up before me and returned to her house, but a quick call to the Moores made my heart sink: they didn't see Catherine in the slightest, but they noticed that several things from her room were missing, such as her diary, some clothes and other assorted items. I assume that Catherine went back to gather more things and then go to parts unknown.

Like clockwork, I tried calling her and only got the voicemail. I had no idea where she went or where she was at that time. Her own parents had no luck there either.

Calm down, calm down...I tried to console myself as I paced the floor of my room, she always came back before. Catherine is going to come back again. I know it. I feel it. She's going to come back.

Then a day went by, and the another, without any sign from her at all. When seven days turned into ten, I began to get so worried I could barely think straight. But would Catherine come back after two weeks? Or three? Or a full month? I had no way of knowing then. I was a nervous wreck.

On the fourteenth day, we filed a missing persons report.

And then, almost a month later, she called.