Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing... I really appreciate it. So.. another chapter... another few hundred words of escapism for me. Hope you like it...
Rubbing his eyes and blinking Danny tried to fight away the boredom and tiredness that had been creeping up on him after only an hour of reading through emails. The emails seemed harmless enough – he had been able to notify the team as to who her friends seemed to be so Martin and Sam could be sure not to miss interviewing anyone.
He continued to flick through the black ink printouts – she had emails from cousins and friends with the odd band fan mail message. She always came across happy enough in her emails and leafing through the pages Danny couldn't seem to find anything too out of the ordinary… wait... He stopped to read an email from an online blog confirming registration details. This just might be what we're looking for, Danny thought to himself as he scribbled down the details of her account with Livejournal a web based diary site, her username being wiltedbutterfly.
Swivelling around he faced the computer, accessed the internet and typed the address into the search bar, seconds later he was faced with a screen with a black background with white writing in the foreground whilst in the right hand corner of the page there was a small picture of a gothic looking girl with mascara tear stains running down her face. Taking all of this in, Danny scrolled down to the latest entry and began to read, his mind drifting to the last time he read a girls journal.
The hours pass as I sit in silence watching the world around me wishing that I was still a part of it… but I am not, not anymore – was I ever? ...
Jack sighed deeply, this case was frustrating – for a start, the teachers didn't seem to even know the kid existed – she was just a name on the attendance roll to them and nothing more and it pissed him off. From what he was learning about Jackie she was an intelligent girl, a girl with a sense of humour, and a girl who deserved so much more attention from those around her.
'Jackie,' his lips mouthed her name – the feminine version of his own. Opening the car door he paused before flipping open his phone…
'Danny it's me… tell me you've got something…'
Danny's eyes were glued to the computer screen as he scrolled through entries upon entries that Jackie had updated onto this internet site detailing what had been going on in her life, most notably her entries were about how she felt… her feelings often not positive ones. He noticed that each new update seemed more negative than the last, her words bleak and morbid betraying her desperation, vulnerability and fear.
He rubbed his temples, about to call in to tell his superior of his findings but stopped when a new entry appeared on the blog…
23rd March 2006 2:53pm
I'm at the Library saying my final goodbyes to the place that always embraced me, the place that never judged me, never made me pretend to be someone that I'm not.
I've left a note in the last book I borrowed… maybe someone will find it, maybe I will be remembered in some remote and obscure way… or not… I am kind of past caring anyway.
I should keep this short otherwise I will want to type forever… in some ways I want to get every last thought out… I want every last syllable that is swimming around my head to be released…
This entry is taking too long… if I prolong it any more the moment will have passed…
I have said my last goodbyes…time for me to go now for good.
You will find my remains at Lankston Park floating in the river marbled with crimson, my crimson. It will be beautiful it will be my end.
If anyone reads this… I hope life is kind to you… kinder than it was to me.
Jack…
Danny continued to stare at the screen despite having already finished reading Jackie's latest entry. He could hardly fathom the words that had just been devoured by his mind… it hardly seemed coincidental that his first case after returning from work would mirror the last case he worked before he left… the case that helped trigger his spiral to destruction.
The vibration of his cell phone against the desk snapped him away from his thoughts…
'Taylor', Danny answered in the professional FBI way that had no room for polite 'hello's' or 'how do you do's'.
'Danny it's me… tell me you've got something…'
