Ghosts of Yesterday's Past

Have you ever just laid there in your bed, the thin veil of sleep threatening to lift off of you, drawing you into the awakened world? And you try to fight it, you try to stay asleep, but to no avail, nothing works?

That's how life usually is for me. Nothing ever goes quite the way it should, and I always wish I could stay asleep for just a little longer.

I like to sleep. Sleep is my savior. It keeps me sane. Keeps reality at bay, even if it is only for a little while. I love to make a burrow in the middle of my bed amidst all the sheets and comforters and bedspreads. They're warm and cozy, and cuddle me as tightly or as loosely as I want.

And when I sleep, I dream.

And when I dream... I'm given a false sense of hope.

But today, I can't sleep in. My dog, Duke, will not allow it. He needs to go out, I'm guessing, because without any warning, he takes the edge of my comforter in his mouth and yanks it off the bed, leaving my half-dressed body to be ravaged by the cold, nipping ocean air billowing through my veranda doors.

I sit up and rake a hand through my mangled hair, which was a neat bun when I originally went to bed. I decide to go ahead and get dressed, brush my teeth, and then I make a steaming pot of coffee, which is my second savior in life.

The last thing I do before I snap a leash on Duke's collar and head out is grab my Nikon D300 camera and throw its strap around my neck. Hopefully there will be some good targets on the beach.

From my beach house, there's two good ways to go-- left or right. If you go straight, you'll hit ocean. If you go backwards, you'll end up near the highway. Usually, I go right. I never go left. Why? Well... I have my reasons.

But, for some unknown reason, Duke immediately bolts to the left and starts running. Fast. So, of course, I chase after this retarded animal, screaming for him to stop, heel, sit, stay, anything to get him to stop, but it's no use. He keeps going.

Until he gets there. Then, of course, he stops.

Right dead in front of the swingset.

I immediately begin doing the techniques that Dr. Fairchild taught me. I close my eyes, take a deep breath through my nose, exhale slowly through my mouth. I count backwards from 10 very slowly...

It doesn't work.

The flashback still hits just as hard.

Ten Years Earlier

"I'll race you to the swingset! Ready, sey, GO!" Dawn screams, and takes off. Of course, me being older by 7 years, I give her a head start. I then run quickly behind her, but I still let her win.

"Okay, you win... this time," I tell her.

"Sweet! So what do I win?"

"I'll buy you an ice cream when the cart comes around. How's that?"

"Okay."

We get on the swings, and our daily ritual commences, where Dawn asks nine million different questions, and I answer them to the best of my ability.

"Why do you like taking pictures?" Dawn asks.

"Well... When I take a picture of something, it captures everything in the moment, preserving it forever. Time goes on, but we always have the moment in the picture."

"What's high school like?"

"Hell," I laugh. The answer seems good enough, because she continues on to the next question.

"What's it like being 15?"

"Uhm... The same as 8, I guess. School gets harder, your body gets... weirder. Oh, but when you're 15 and you like a boy... the boy usually likes you back."

"Ha ha, Carmen. Okay, then what's it like to kiss a boy?"

I blush.

"I... I wouldn't know. I haven't kissed anyone yet."

"Oh."

"Hey, look, the ice cream man's coming. What do you want?"

She tells me the usual-- a mint chocolate chip cone.

"Okay. Stay here, I'll be right back."

I sprint over to the cart, get two cones, pay, and head back. The transaction couldn't have taken more that 10 minutes, tops.

But when I got back to the swingset, Dawn was gone.

After not being able to find her for 30 minutes, I got my parents. My parents got the police. The police got the news. But we never got Dawn.

I could still remember the way her hair smelled of her honey vanilla shampoo... The way the right corner of her mouth tucked in when she smiled... Her goofy laugh... Those silly red boots she insisted on wearing everywhere... Dawn had been my best friend.

It had been 10 long years since my sister had vanished, but the pain had never vanished. I was the last one in my family... my parents both withered away quickly. They finally gave up their fights two years ago. Mom died only four months after Dad did. They had left the beach house to me. And in my own stupidity, I continued to live there.

I grabbed Duke's leash and led him home, already tired again. That's all I ever did anymore, was sleep. I made sure he had food and water, and then crawled back into my comforting bed.

Not even five minutes later, my telephone rings, screaming at me to answer it.

"Mmm, hello?" I answer.

"Hello, ma'am. This is Detective Jensen Curtis of the Buford Police Department. Is Sarah Evans available?"

"I-I'm sorry, sir, but she passed away two years ago. This is her daughter, Carmen Evans."

"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am. You would be the sister, then, of Dawn Evans, correct?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Listen. About a year ago I joined the Buford P.D. as a part of the Cold Cases division, and I received your sister's case file as my first assignment."

"Uh-huh..."

"I'm going to need you to come down to the station, where we can talk in person. Is that alright, Ms. Evans?"

"Uhm... okay. I can be there in 20 minutes."

"Okay, see you then."

As I drove, my whole body shook. Either he just wanted to go over information that the department already knew, or he was going to finally confirm my family's fears... that Dawn was truly gone.

"Ms. Evans?" a man asked as I walked in.

"Yes?"

"Hi, I'm Detective Curtis. We spoke on the phone. Will you please follow me to my office?"

As I sat down, Detective Curtis closed the door and came around his desk.

"May I call you Carmen?"

"Yes, of course."

"Carmen, like I said on the phone, I've worked your sister's case for a year now. Some things lead to dead ends, and others led to leads."

"Uhm, okay? Look, Detective Curtis. I lost my baby sister ten damn years ago. And although a full decade has gone by, not a day passes without me thinking about her. My parents died of heartbreak from losing her, for Christ's sake. It was my fault! If I'd taken her with me, she'd still be here. If I'd kept my eye on her, she'd still be alive. So don't go and dredge up painful memories that I'd rather keep buried, thank you."

"Carmen, that's not why I called you down here."

"Then why in the hell did you?!"

"Carmen, we've found your sister. She's alive."