The Wild Rose
Eliza Day
It was a big deal when Eliza Day died.
It was all over the internet, all over the radio, and in a small town like Ferrington, it was all anyone would talk about.
Before she passed, I knew next to nothing about her. Besides her name and her face, she had kept to herself, and was a grade below me when we were in school. Now, I could tell you just about everything there is to know about Eliza. Who her friends were, what she did, her life plans, her birthday. The day of her death. The day her body was found.
How she was murdered.
Of course, how much of it was true, I didn't know. It was just little snippets of gossip, here and there.
“Poor girl's head was bashed in. If that didn't kill her, the water did.”
There were plenty of people in the community who felt pity for Eliza and her family. There was a vigil held for her, and assurances from the police that they were investigating. People were donating money left and right for the Day family, since they weren't one of the more affluent of families in Ferrington.
It all lasted about a month, before the town started to quiet down again. People stopped talking about her, and started talking about the latest local drug bust, or the grief their neighbors were causing them. The case was still open, but Eliza Day faded into the background of every day life.
But there was one thing about her death that continued to hang over the community.
Whoever had killed her was still out there.
It was all over the internet, all over the radio, and in a small town like Ferrington, it was all anyone would talk about.
Before she passed, I knew next to nothing about her. Besides her name and her face, she had kept to herself, and was a grade below me when we were in school. Now, I could tell you just about everything there is to know about Eliza. Who her friends were, what she did, her life plans, her birthday. The day of her death. The day her body was found.
How she was murdered.
Of course, how much of it was true, I didn't know. It was just little snippets of gossip, here and there.
“Poor girl's head was bashed in. If that didn't kill her, the water did.”
There were plenty of people in the community who felt pity for Eliza and her family. There was a vigil held for her, and assurances from the police that they were investigating. People were donating money left and right for the Day family, since they weren't one of the more affluent of families in Ferrington.
It all lasted about a month, before the town started to quiet down again. People stopped talking about her, and started talking about the latest local drug bust, or the grief their neighbors were causing them. The case was still open, but Eliza Day faded into the background of every day life.
But there was one thing about her death that continued to hang over the community.
Whoever had killed her was still out there.