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.

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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.

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.

Eve of the New Year

Right now we all stand upon the dawning of the year 2013, a new year with new hopes and new dreams. 2012 has been painful, but at the same time there were moments I enjoyed. The entire year Catherine has been on my mind nonstop, mostly me worrying sick about where she is. I still worry, and I doubt I will be able to shake it anytime soon.

My wish for 2013 is for her to return home to me, and to get the answers I need. I pray that it will be granted.

For everyone else out there, have a safe, happy and prosperous new year, and may 2013 be kind to you all.