A million thoughts race through my brain at once. Amelia Sanders, alive? Where has she been? Why is she here now? Why is she in the same clothes as the day she disappeared? What is happening? Before I can calm my thoughts and think rationally, her eyes turn black, my body goes cold and everything goes black… I can’t breathe…
It’s not the same as my dreams. I’m not panicking, rather than gasping for air desperately, It feels like I’m just holding my breath as if I’m under water. I can think clearly… my own thoughts, but what I see… it’s not my own memories but hers. A familiar feeling but altogether less harrowing.
Loneliness… Her friends used to come here to this spot next to the river, to look out over the city at night or just hang out during the day. After high school, they all seemed to go their separate ways. College, work… drugs… They didn’t come here anymore, she missed it. She had a pang of nostalgia and decided to come here, get a look at the view, the view she shared with friends, enemies, boyfriends. Her childhood was gone and she wanted one last glimpse into the past, into what she missed, before she’d move on, truly become an adult.
With tears in her eyes she got up to leave. Go home, tell her parents she was ready to go to school, she’d had a long enough break. She turned to head back to her car but stopped suddenly after a few steps. She’d stepped in something, blood, a pool of blood lay at her feet.
Fear… Questions raced through her mind. Where did it come from? Why was it here? Was it here before? Should I call 911? Before she could do anything else, an icy cold hand covered her mouth. “Well aren’t you a pretty little thing?” a gruff voice said quietly, menacingly in her ear. A knife was brought around to her front. It didn’t have a point, instead being rounded at the end, and a single edge, not a common looking knife.
Horror… The knife dug into her skin at her left collarbone. The large hand on the handle dragged the knife down her chest cutting through the string of her necklace. It fell from her neck into the pool of blood beneath them. The knife continued down til it reached her left breast, as blood began to ooze from the wound. The pain had faded as her adrenaline finally kicked in, breaking free of the frozen state she was in. She tried to scream but the large, icy hand over her mouth muffled any sound. She tried to break free but an arm just wrapped around her stomach, stiff and rigid as she struggled.
“I do so like it when they struggle.” The gruff voice spoke calmly, no hint of panic or struggle in his voice, terrifyingly stable. The knife then dug in again, at her stomach this time. It went in deeper, and he pulled it across just as slowly and methodically. The adrenaline couldn’t mask the pain this time as the blood poured from her stomach, adding to the pool below, staining her necklace red.
Acceptance… The knife tore apart her insides, slowly and methodically. Amelia understood her fate, there was only one way this could end. It was fitting though, she thought, that she would die here, the place she loved the most. The place she had the happiest of memories, at least she had that. Everything went black.
She awoke for a moment, in a stupor, to pitch black. Was she awake? Was she alive? Even her thoughts were weak and slow. She couldn’t move her arms, her legs, she couldn’t feel them either. Were they still there?... Did it even matter? The sound of water dripping into water echoed like in a tunnel or cave. The smell of the river, blood… death… filled her nostrils as suddenly dull light filled her surroundings. Bones filled her vision as it went blurry. The bones didn’t phase her, she was beyond panic, beyond fear. Her eyes looked up toward the source of the light. Her vision faded with the glimpse of a figure of some sort. Her hearing had faded too as what I can only assume was a voice pounded and echoed in her head. A squeal and a pound with the disappearance of the light, a trap door of some sort, was the last thing she saw.
My vision returns. Amelia isn’t there, the icy cold of her hand begins to fade but lingers on in my hand. What the fuck did I just experience? A ghost? Amelia herself trying to help solve her own murder? Did I just pass out and have a dream? I mean, I didn’t get much sleep, I can’t rule that out.
I pull out my phone and put some notes down. Stuff to look up later. A description of the knife, pictures of where her necklace fell and if it was cut like I saw, evidence of or the plausibility of a trap door somewhere nearby that maybe the cops missed. I type on my phone potential evidence I could find to corroborate this story from my… vision? Dream? Amelia’s memory? I type down at the end of my list, ‘ghost research.’ I remember my college professor telling us “Don’t completely rule out any story or possibility, no matter how implausible. Just because it’s not plausible, doesn’t mean it’s not possible. Pursue other leads but if all else fails… rely on the improbable, you’ll be surprised what this world will throw at you.”
The possibility that Amelia returned as a ghost to tell me what happened to her feels… impossible… Hell the possibility of ghosts even existing feels impossible! But if the dream, vision, memory… thing, I just witnessed checks out then I have to pursue it. I’d be an idiot not to, right?
Against my better judgment, I pull up my web browser and type in ‘Are ghosts real?’ A full page of results that say ‘Ghosts are not real’ stares back at me from the screen. Right, I probably should have seen that coming. That seems to be the overwhelming consensus among people, even if most of them are afraid of things that are ‘haunted.’ I put away my phone and stand up off the barricade. I’ll need to do more research obviously, but not at 3:30 AM in an abandoned lot, not to mention an old crime scene. I’ll head back to the office once I’m done here and do some research and see what I can come up with. Benny will make fun of me for finding me at the office again but that’s par for the course. I just gotta not clue him in that I’m looking up stuff on ghosts, and ‘evidence’ I got in a vision… I’d never hear the end of that.
I take another look around the area, maybe something that the cops missed or something to prove or disprove this dream. That or Amelia’s freezing cold twin sister that her parents for some reason failed to mention to me. My search turns up mostly litter, it seems like another group of kids have found and taken a liking to the spot. I don’t blame them, it’s a damn good view, best seats in the house. I wonder if that would make Amelia happy, to see others enjoying her and her friends’ old spot.
Just when I begin my little search is for naught I find something. Something I would have looked over if it hadn’t been for the vision. The remnants of what seem to be a pillar in the asphalt. It’s not really much to go on considering I couldn’t find any others but it is evidence that something used to be here, some kind of building probably. I snap a quick picture and make another note on my phone about the possibility of a building being demolished here in the past 5 years. The cops’ photos didn’t seem to have any buildings in them and their notes didn’t seem to mention one either. Not that I’d be surprised with a lackluster investigation from them.
I head back over to the barricades and have a seat while I check over my checklist. CCTV Cameras, I’ll come back and check those during the day sometime. Take photos of important evidence areas, check, search the area for missed evidence, check, get a feel for what the victim saw and maybe why they were here, check. Absorb memories from the ghost of the murder victim wasn’t on my checklist but I guess… check? I guess I’m done here for now, I’ll be back to check the cameras later when it’s less suspicious.
I take one last look at the beautiful view of the city at night. The lights of signs and windows twinkling in the night, headlights and brake lights moving along the roads… I could sit here for hours, but I’ve got work to do. I stand back up and start walking towards my bike.
Plap
I stop dead in my tracks at the sound of my shoe stepping in something wet. I look down to see what I really didn’t want to see. A pool of blood beneath my feet. My face reflected in the pool. I can see the fear plain as day in the dark reds of the moonlit puddle. “It’s the 5 year anniversary…” I say out loud as I feel something cold near my left cheek and see in the reflection… a hand next to my face.
