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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.