Don't Be Blue

Biophysicist Aaron Klug once said “One cannot plan for the unexpected” and boy, that sure has been true for me. My name is Greta and I’m about to tell you my story. First, you need to know one thing about me--I am a planner. I like everything to go exactly as it should. It’s not in my nature to “go with the flow” so when I decided, at the last minute, to go home for Thanksgiving break this past year, I was already uncomfortable. I had planned to be shut up in my dorm room for the entire week studying for my art history exam but when I called my Nan to check in, she didn’t sound like herself. Instead of her usual jokes and sarcasm, she was quiet and reserved. She’s been sick for quite a while and she did her best to hide her weariness but this time, she just didn’t sound well and I knew I had to get to her as fast as I could. It seemed like our time was running out faster than I thought it would and I didn’t want to let another minute go by without seeing her.

On my way out of the dorm, I left a note for my roommate Rylee. She was meeting with her study group before she took off for her own family Thanksgiving festivities and I wanted to make sure I wished her a happy holiday before I left. We had grown pretty close since the start of the semester. She’s been at Columbia a little longer than I have and I’ve been so grateful for her guidance this semester. I know how much she wanted to get home and how much she didn’t want to go to her study group meeting but one of her classmates said it was imperative that they meet before break. In any case, I was pretty bummed to have missed her. Home for me is in Michigan so I had a solid five hour drive ahead of me. I don’t love driving but there’s something to be said for tuning out the rest of the world and just getting lost in some music for a while so I stuffed my books into my backpack along with a bunch of snacks, grabbed my weekender bag, and headed out.

When I had been on the road for about three hours, I got a call from Rylee’s mom.

“Hi, Mrs. Smith, how are you?” I said.

“Hi Greta! I’m alright. Well--actually, I’m a little worried. Rylee hasn’t made it home yet and I’m just wondering if you know where she could be”, she said with a frantic edge to her voice.

“Oh, ya know what? She did have a last minute meeting with her study group. She wasn’t in the dorm when I left. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from her real soon!” I tried to assure her but I did find it odd that she hadn’t at least called her mom.

Rylee is the type who calls her mom for anything and everything. They’re constantly facetiming and it’s sweet. I’ve never been that close to anyone but my Nan and my brother. Both of my parents were killed in a car crash when I was a baby. Nan raised me and my brother, Ian. He stayed with her when I got my scholarship to Columbia. I fought them both tooth and nail but they insisted that I go. It’s killing me that I’m so far from them now.

Two hours later, I pulled into the driveway and was immediately flooded with a sense of nostalgia. Ian was outside raking leaves and I could already smell the scent of pumpkin pie wafting out from inside the house--Nan’s signature dish. I couldn’t wait to get inside and hug her! I jumped out of the car and ran into Ian’s arms. I missed him so much. He returned my hug but something felt off--almost like I could physically feel the anxiety emanating from him.

“Ian, what is it? What’s the matter?” I asked, concerned.

“It’s Nan. She’s not doing well, Greta. For the last two days, she’s been talking nonsense about ‘a man in Chicago’ but to my knowledge, the only person she knows in Chicago is you and you’re not a man. She’s been up at all hours of the night just talking. I can’t even get through to her. It’s like she doesn’t see me, doesn’t hear me. She sleeps all day and when she does wake up, she seems to be herself...until nighttime. It’s like some kind of switch flips and I lose her again. She seems ok right now but I’m really worried. You should just go in and talk to her,” he said.

Trying to quell his anxiety, I answered, “Okay. We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. I’m sorry I’ve left you alone for so long.” He nodded and I went inside the house.

“Nan? Nan, I’m home!” I shouted.

“Greta??? Is that you? Thank God you’re here. I need to talk to you. It really is quite urgent,” she says as she shuffles around the corner as fast as her slippered feet can take her.

“I’m here now. What is it, Nan?” I say as I hug her close, inhaling the scent of my grandmother--pumpkin pie spice and coffee, uniquely Nan.

“I’ve missed you, dear and I can’t wait to catch up but first, I need to give you something. This came for you just two days ago.” She pulled a brown paper package from the top of the refrigerator and handed it to me. “I have a feeling that I know what it is and there’s so much I need to tell you,” she says hastily.

“Nan, what is this?” I asked.

“Greta, when did you last see Rylee?” she questioned.

“My roommate? Why? I didn’t even know you remembered her name,” I said.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, child. Now, when did you last see her?” Nan asked again.

“Umm, well not since last night, I guess. She was already gone to her study group meeting before I woke up this morning. What does this have to do with Rylee?” I asked.

“Well...just open the package,” Nan says with an indecipherable tone to her voice.

I tear open the paper and staring up at me from the lid of a small wooden box is a brown glass eye. Startled and slightly ill at ease, I opened the box to find a note inside that read, “Don’t be blue. It should have been you. We are watching.” At that same moment, my phone rang. It was my RA, Chelsea.

“Hey Chelsea! What’s up? I asked.

“Greta. Rylee,” she said through sobs. My stomach sank.

“Chelsea, what is it? What happened?” I asked, terrified to hear the answer.

“Rylee’s body was just found in the library. I don’t even know how to function right now. I had to ID her body and she looked so peaceful, so normal. How could this happen? Do you have any idea?” she questioned me, hardly able to breathe through each word.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” is all I could say.

“Greta, I’m so sorry. This is unthinkable. The strangest thing of all is that one of her fingers was dipped in blue paint. No one can make any sense of it,” she said.

Blue? Why does that sound familiar? My eyes shift to my hand, still holding the note from the wooden box. “Don’t be blue. It should have been you. We are watching.” My heart drops into my stomach.

“I’m sorry, Chelsea. I have to go,” I say.

I feel dread rising in my soul. What does this mean? What am I supposed to do with all of this? My roommate is dead and is this note saying that it should have been me? What does my Nan have to do with all of this? I have more questions than answers and my Nan doesn’t seem the least bit surprised. Where do I go from here?