The Girl Who Killed Me

Back Story: Speculation ran wild at every shop and street in town on exactly how the latest girl had run away…if she had. As these things go, no one could recall her name. There were so many of them missing, who could keep track? Of course, this was just regular old run-of-the-mill gossip, and besides, there was no proof of what took place. So naturally, the juicier and more depraved the rumor became, the better. Some even speculated that maybe a serial killer had finally got to her. Just like the rest of the girls.

The sad part about it, at the center of all this mess were grieving families who still had to find a way to live amongst the talk, all the while clearing their daughter’s reputation.

According to local records, the last time someone had gone missing was in 2014 and 1996 respectively—but even that was a lie. More than two young women had gone missing. But only these two had made the news. Two girls between the ages of seventeen and twenty-three were gone. Sharee made the third young woman. Maybe she was up to no good— as so many of the older population speculated, wondering where her parents were, or what she was doing by herself—if she was by herself. Truth was, no one knew. Others wondered whether some deranged killer was going around taking these young women but it wasn’t likely. The problem was, Sharee knew what happened. She knew exactly what happened, she just couldn't tell anyone.

What were the odds that more than one perpetrator was committing such similar crimes? The headlines rolled twenty-four hours a day about the missing Sharee Winters and her baffling connection—if any—to the 2014 victim, seventeen-year-old Nicole Sutton and 1996 Victim twenty-three-year-old Heather Jacobs. But, there were more. A total of twelve women were missing… or so the story said. Below will chronicle parts of what we think happened.

Four friends: Sharee Winters, Miranda Spencer, Addison Lockwood, and Naomi Andrews are all juniors in high-school and as most of these stories go—their parents are old friends that grew up together. They live in the same neighborhood—Winding Cove and all the girls are sixteen years old.

Sharee Winters never expected her friend Naomi Andrews to be the reason she would go missing, why would she? They had been friends for exactly thirteen of her sixteen years alive and she trusted no one more—the exception being her little brother Bruce. Bruce Winters was a freshman, and a popular one at that. It was well known around town that he and his sister Sharee were thick as thieves—so it made sense when Sharee went missing that Bruce would be the one police would talk to first. But even he had no idea where his sister was. No one did, and this made things that much harder. There were no cameras on the street corners and any local would’ve known which back-streets to take to avoid being seen. There was no starting point to work back from and time was running out.

Who would have thought to check the Valley?

It had been three-days since Sharee’s disappearance and she wondered what her parents and brother were thinking. Were they crying, were they sleeping, were they scared? Did they expect Sharee might have ran away? These thoughts raced through Sharee’s mind, and were likely all the same thoughts they had about her. Sharee rested her head on the cold, damp rocks of Marigold Valley’s deep canyon ledge as she thought of a way to get out of this precarious spot. There was at least another hundred feet till she reached the lowest point and she couldn’t risk another fall. Surely it would kill her.

Sharee held her broken phone in her hand as she tried to get it to power on but it was no use. The screen was cracked. Sharee looked up, barely able to see where the cliff’s edge met the open air. Blades of clumped grass dangled over the edge, likely from where she’d fallen—but why would Naomi have let go, Sharee couldn’t believe it, Naomi hadn’t meant to push her…right?

Now, as Sharee put the broken phone in her pocket she wasn’t so sure. It had been days and no one had come looking for her. No helicopter, no search dogs, no flashlights or ropes. It was like she was the only living thing on this rock…the only thing living in this canyon besides a few errant birds. Maybe Naomi didn’t know Sharee was still alive—but wouldn’t she go tell her parents just to be safe? Local Law Enforcement at Marigold State Park would’ve noticed Sharee’s car sitting in the lot by now. She wracked her brain trying to think back to the other times park-goers had fallen over. Did the media respond, were search-parties gathered? Sharee couldn’t remember. She didn’t even know where her keys were, maybe Naomi had grabbed them in the struggle. But then it hit her, Sharee never got her car keys back from Naomi...

Maybe no one was looking for Sharee, at least not here…

A cold stabbing twinge coursed through Sharee as the reality of the truly dire situation sunk in. She was alone, left to die in a place no one knew she was at, a place she wasn’t supposed to be. Her parents had long warned her of the dangers at Marigold Valley. It was one thing to visit the State Park, but another to go near the treacherous Valley edge. There were no railings or warnings, just a small sign telling patrons not to lean too far over to feed the birds. Maybe Sharee should’ve thought better than to trust Naomi’s idea of having a picnic overlooking the water. It wasn’t even rainy season; the river hadn’t overflowed enough to make much of a difference in the water depths below. It was an unfortunate set of circumstances for someone trapped so high above.

Sharee ripped a few blades of hay-like grass from the cold, dry and veiny dirt. The taste was indescribable—bitter, earthy and biting—but it was all she had. She thought back to what day it was, wondering when or if the park opened. A holiday was approaching and Sharee couldn’t recall which one. Her brain seemed so foggy and distant—maybe, just maybe if I roll off I will wake up and this will all just be a silly dream—Sharee fought against this tempting thought as it seemed to comfort her.

Presidents Day? Memorial Day? What month are we even in? Sharee thought back to the prior week wishing she had paid more attention. She was never really good at remembering dates or names. Two very important things that could have helped in this situation. Either way, it meant the park might be closed for one day, or four days and come to think of it she hadn’t heard any noises above. Could the park be closed for longer? Sharee chewed on her lip as she fought back tears. She would have to conserve her energy if she was going to try and get herself out of this, and the only way out would be to go back up.

Sharee lie motionless as she watched bits of clouds roll by wondering if rain would soon follow. Her hometown, neighboring Springville, West Edenborough—where her family and friends were—wasn’t like any other city with such a name, there was no springs nearby, just a bubbling river that sprouted up out of nowhere, running fifty miles until it drained into the varying mazes of narrow crevices at Marigold Valley, pooling to the bottom, waiting for unsuspecting victims like her to fall in and drown. The irony of the situation was enveloping her as Sharee let out an uncomfortable laugh.

Old Marigold Valley, of all places this would be the place Sharee would likely die, as she lay waiting for the inevitable to happen. She knew she could only hold on for so long, eventually she might have to jump, or roll herself off the ledge if her energy didn’t sustain itself and the crazy thoughts continued.

As she thought about her life, Sharee Winters began to wonder what drew her parents Cindy and Mark Winters back after college. Their hometown was quiet, quaint and predictable; maybe they thought raising kids there would be best, maybe they thought nothing bad could happen. But boy were they wrong. Their fear of letting Sharee come to a place like Marigold is what likely had led Sharee to be so naïve about the dangers of the world and the types of people in it. She hadn’t done much traveling outside of their little city and she was mostly relying on her skills learned in Girl Scouts to make it as far as she had…but would that be enough, would Sharee survive such wildly unpredictable circumstances?

Follow along as the twisted tale of deception and betrayal unwinds. Where truth meets fiction, begging the reader not to believe anyone but themselves. Leaving one to ponder—would you survive Marigold Valley or succumb to it like Sharee? It all boils down to who you believe.

Chapter One: Beginning of the Storm: In the extreme heat of August most residents of the northern coast worry of Hurricanes, flash flooding and tepid drought but this was the last thing on Sharee Winter’s mind as she clutched her satchel tight, hopping in the driver’s seat of her electric blue car—aptly named storm. A hand-me-down from the early nineties that had become her most prized possession, complete with tanned seats and faded tint. In the passenger seat, Sharee’s best friend Naomi Andrews had a full day planned for the two of them. Sharee hadn’t even thought to check the weather as the sun peeped out of a few heavy clouds overhead.

“So, what are Miranda and Addison doing today?” Sharee whispered as she put the car in reverse, backing out of her parent’s driveway in the Springville, West Edenborough neighborhood of Winding Circle. Miranda Spencer and Addison Lockwood were the other half of their group, the four girls were the best of friends and they each wore a tiny silver coin shaped pendant with their initials on the face like a compass rose.

“I’m not sure, maybe getting ready for prom, or studying for that calculus test we already passed…besides, we don’t need to involve them in everything we do.” Naomi replied rather coldly, adjusting the passenger side air-vent— “they will live without us. They always do...”

Sharee furrowed her eyebrows but didn’t respond, something felt different about today but she couldn’t quite place her finger on what it was as she wondered why Naomi wanted to hang out with just her.

“We really should get going, did you tell your brother what you were doing?” Naomi squinted as she waited for a response.

“No, and since I don’t know our exact plans I just told him we would be gone for a few hours. We should be back for dinner, right?

“Sure,” Naomi smiled— “but first turn here, I almost forgot…we need to stop at my house for a second so I can pick up a few things for our special day. I think you are going to be super surprised!”

Sharee let out a small smile, her cheeks rosying up to the idea of what could possibly be waiting for her. Her birthday wasn’t for another two-weeks.

The girls passed by the crossroads of Winding Circle and Cove’s Point before making a left. Taped on one of the streetlamps were the laminated faces of two missing young women.

“Their parents must put new ones up every year,” Sharee mused, turning the radio station to something without static—“I try not to think about it, such negative energy around their stories…how two people could go missing without a trace.”

“Yeah, and I don’t get why we live in a place that doesn’t have good service,” Naomi hissed—"we must be the only area in the country with such horrible service.”

Sharee ignored Naomi’s usual complaints as she thought about what the two missing persons flyers said. She had practically memorized every word. So many odd circumstances surrounded the young women of such starkly different backgrounds—one seventeen-year-old Nicole Sutton, a student who had gone missing some ten-years before back in 2014 after going on a run in the neighboring area of Briar’s Glen. Then there was the other young woman, Heather Jacobs a twenty-three-year-old that had gone missing almost thirty years before upon leaving her job at a call-center.

Both women were brunette, blue eyed and fair complected. Very similar to Sharee and Naomi. In fact, this was something that stuck with Sharee all those years later and was why she often talked about their disappearance. Trying to find similarities between the cases, trying not to end up like they had and besides, Sharee didn’t much believe in coincidence and was just a little girl when the twenty-year anniversary of Heather aired on the Television, shortly followed by the one for Nicole. All those years later and still no answers. No sighting, no clues, no peep, just rumors.

“Why don’t I drive, you’ve never been to Marigold State Park,” Naomi’s voice cut against Sharee’s darkly brewing thoughts. A large basket in hand and a blanket folded under her arm.

“Sure… I don’t really know where to go…so…”

“Well today is your lucky day, think of it as an early birthday where the two of us can hang out just like old times. Just sit back, relax and take in the sights.”

The idea of Sharee and Naomi having one-on-one time appealed to Sharee. It had been ages. The two girls were best, best friends and shared everything. People thought they were sisters, almost twins.

“Alright, but are you sure we shouldn’t go by and see if Miranda or Addison want to join, I don’t want to leave them out.”

“No, they know. Besides, like I said, they are busy we shouldn’t bother them…”

“Alright…if you say so.”

Sharee relented, instead moving over to sit in the passenger seat of her beloved car as Naomi got behind the wheel. Within minutes the two girls were on a stretch of winding road that headed deep into the canyon city of Marigold, miles away from where they lived.

Sharee shut her eyes as thousands of tightly packed trees dotted the backs of her eyelids with pops of vibrant colors. Her hand out the window held the breeze as it whirled past. For a second it was hard to believe she was almost seventeen. She had almost forgotten that she should be worried, what would her parents think. They had after all banned her and her brother Mark from going anywhere near Marigold State Park—and for good reason.

“For all the beauty in the world bad things happen at that place.” Sharee remembered her mom Cindy’s voice snarky and sharp as she scolded Sharee for wanting to go to Marigold for pumpkin picking last October. This was nowhere near the cliffs, or the river or the falling pines. — “There are boulders, and snakes, monsters and deviants all over, they are practically crawling. The park never closes, they take your money and don’t even follow-up to make sure it’s empty at night. My daughter will not go, that is final. You can pick your pumpkin at Edenborough Square like your dad and I do every year. It’s a family tradition.”

Sharee smiled, biting her lip as she wondered if Marigold was really that bad of a place.

“Why are you so quiet,” Naomi asked, playfully slapping Sharee’s arm.

“No reason, just taking in the sights…”

Sharee also wondered about the missing girls and if they were in these very woods, or if someone had taken them to a place not much different than Marigold? This would be the perfect time for Sharee to do her own research as Naomi parked in a circular dirt laden lot. Crudely chopped pieces of wood marked spots for more vehicles—though not many were there. On a nearby park sign were papers stained and shriveled with years of sun exposure. Maps and phone numbers for the varying park rangers and rentable cabins. There were more missing persons signs tacked up. These not much different than those back home, all young woman with similar looks. Young women who had gone missing within the last handful of months.

“We should be careful,” Sharee said, snapping a photo of the billboard for later research.

She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn’t even realized Naomi standing so close behind. Sharee felt a heavy thud in her chest as she hit the rocks below, unsure of what exactly had happened. Maybe she had slipped. It was an uncomfortable feeling to loose footing, to have the ground slip out from under you as the Earth below pulls you down and the seconds turn into hours.