Your Midweek Update for 04/28/21

There's still no sign of Casey. It's been three weeks and I feel like I'm no closer to finding her than I was that first night. Door ajar, blood on the handle, living in shambles.

Nothing was missing. We had to make a thorough catalogue for the insurance company and let the police know if anything was out of place. Nothing. That's how they ruled out a home invasion. 

The absence of a burglar's body was what tipped me off to that. 

That girl is going to be the greatest killer in a generation. I wasn't even killing at her age and yet she's murdered a dozen people - that I know about. I still don't know everything she went through before she came to us. That time between foster homes, that time in juvenile correction, that time she had escaped juvie before James found her. 

She was born to take life. And now someone has taken her. I don't mean to repeat myself so much. I just feel so helpless. 

You know I hate feeling helpless.

I can barely eat or sleep or kill. The storage unit has been empty for a month which feels like a fucking waste of money. As soon as she's home safe I'll open it back up again but for now, it lies dormant.

I go to work, I come home, I look for my daughter. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. 

I found a gas station near the edge of the community that has a working camera. The angle is shit and the attendant smelt like cigarettes and rotten fruit but I got the footage. 

And for once, I didn't have to come up with an excuse. Normally, I would lie about a missing child to steal incriminating footage of my own crimes. Now I'm praying whoever took her wasn't smart enough to think of it. 

I gave it to my sister to comb through but that was Saturday and despite my constant calls and texts, there's been nothing new. 

I feel like I'm losing my mind, just waiting for news. 

I can't wait to get my hands on this son of a bitch. I am going to eviscerate them. I am going to tear them apart limb by limb. I am going to eat their heart.

I am also very, very tired. 

I don't know what I'd do without James.

Some anniversary we had this year.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Midweek Update for 04/21/21

There was a time when all I had to worry about was who to kill next. I would kiss my husband goodbye on my way to work, do my job, murder some idiot on the freeway, come home to a house full of slightly manic children, go to bed, wake up, and do it all again. Sure, there were PTA meetings, and work functions, and that time the neigbours invited us to swing with them, but it was a quiet life. It was peaceful and normal and everyone was happy.

I liked my life. Things were uncomplicated. I was a serial murderer who took pleasure in dismembering and dissolving bodies, and didn’t bat an eye when it came to destroying anyone who threatened my secret. I loved my life.

But Sandra is gone. Jason is gone. Charlotte is gone. Heather is gone. Casey is still missing.

I wasn’t meant to love anyone and now, I’ve lost them.

Is the solution for the way I feel to stop loving at all?

I called my sister. Since she’s been on parole, she’s a lot easier to find. I called her and asked if I could come over. I haven’t been to her new place – I haven’t spoken to her in a year – so I had no idea what to expect. My relationship with my sister has never been easy. I never made a secret of my disapproval of what she did and I was quick to exploit her imprisonment for my own gain. She is also the only person who knows what it was like to grown up in that house, with a mother who would sell out her own children for clout. We have always looked out for each other in our own way – protected one another so we could continue our little war. She is simultaneously the closest person in my life (besides my husband) and the person who can most endanger my way of life. Calling her to help me find Casey was a last resort.

But she said ‘yes’.

I finally got to see her knew apartment. It was small and unassuming. It had no personality, no discerning features, or anything that gave away the type of person who lived there. It was exactly what I expected. Unlike me, my sister prefers to disappear. She was always really good at technology and she used that skill to hide herself – and me – from the world. She wanted to be the person no one suspected because they didn’t remember her. Thinking back on the life she led – on the connections she has left – I think she’ll get her wish someday.

I don’t like relying on others, for obvious reasons. The more people you trust, the more people who can hurt you. But I’m trusting my sister now. Together, we’re going to bring my little girl home.

All week, I’ve been knocking on doors, driving around the neighbourhood, getting the lay of the land. Most neighbours have been sympathetic, happy to tell me that they didn’t see anything that night. But someone did. Someone called 9-1-1 and said they heard a struggle. Someone heard a struggle and didn’t try to help. And now? They’re lying to my face about it.

I knew neighbours were meant to be shitty people but this is low.

Or maybe it wasn’t any of the neighbours. Maybe it was whoever took Casey, wanting to expose us by sending the police. If the investigators hadn’t been convinced that they only needed to search the main floor, they would have found blood stains or hair or something that would have turned the investigation away from finding my daughter.

I wish I could get a hold of that recording. Maybe this one time, I can work with the police. If I can hear the caller’s voice, maybe I can figure out if one of my neighbours deserves to die.

The rest of my time has been spent driving around the area looking for cameras. Unfortunately, we chose this neighbourhood for its lack of surveillance and red-light cameras. This place was meant to be a safe haven where the most dangerous thing was me. But if I can find one camera, one witness, something, anything to tell me what the hell is going on and why someone took Casey.

I just want her back.

I just want my life back.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Midweek Update for 04/14/21

Ten days.

Casey’s been gone for ten days and I haven’t slept. I keep reliving the stress of Sandra’s disappearance. Not knowing where she is or what’s happened to her. I dream about finding my little girl’s body in pieces and I wake up crying.

James hasn’t left my side except to go to work where he talks to prisoners and guards – tries to find anyone who can give any insight onto who might have taken her.

She’s a strong girl. Emotionally, of course, but physically as well. She’s tall and she’s strong and normally I would fear for whoever thought they could hurt her but it’s been ten days and there’s still no word.

Police are out looking but they don’t really believe we’ll find her. Detective Sloan – the charming woman assigned to my case – has told me in no uncertain terms that she thinks Casey either ran away on her own or is already dead. But she doesn’t know my little girl, and if she did, she would be asking different questions.

I’m worried about what they’ll find if they look into her past. She has no history – no medical records or social insurance number – nothing real anyways. We gave her the same information we gave her school and we’re praying they care more about her future than her past.

They went and combed the forest outside the city over the weekend which was a whole new adventure. Of course, James and I went with them. It was like walking through a minefield of our own creation. Sure, we vaguely knew where the bodies were buried but we could never be certain. Thankfully, there was only one sniffer dog because, as I said, Detective Sloan believes Casey left of her own accord.

As if she would hurt her family this way.

Jason leaving was different.

But no, it has not escaped my notice that I have now lost all three of my children. But I will get Casey back. She is my second chance and I will not lose her.

There was nothing at the house we hadn’t already found. Keeping the police from searching every nook and cranny while still letting them do their job was a terrible balancing act. But even after they left, we found nothing: no blood we couldn’t account for, no missing items or any explanation.

Sloan confirmed that the blood on the door handle and in the living room was Casey’s blood type but it wasn’t enough to suggest what injuries she might have. The detective thinks the struggle and blood were staged but I know my daughter would never put us through that.

She was happy with us, she was safe. She wouldn’t leave on her own. Someone took her and I want to know who.

I feel alone.

I have my husband – my one constant – but other than that…

I’ve barely made friends at the bank, my neighbours were isolated and judgmental before COVID, my best friend was murdered by my now missing daughter, and I can’t talk to my parents. Not about any of this.

I haven’t spoken to my sister in two years. Not since Jason’s trial which seems like a lifetime ago. Honestly, she might be the only one who can help me right now.

There are few people I trust in this world. In fact, there’s only one, and my sister is not them. But I love her. And she understands this world I exist in: this dichotomy of light and dark. Her skill with technology is admittedly better than mine.

God, I hope she can help me.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Midweek Update for 04/07/21

Because there is no such thing as actual time off in my life, everything has to go to shit once again.

Monday was my anniversary with James (13 glorious years) so we decided to go out and celebrate. We booked at a local restaurant – because we haven’t been out in a long time and we’re forced to choose between stimulating the economy and not dying (I really should be killing for public officials, it’s just so messy and people tend to care) – and then went for a drive outside the city with a delivery man tied up in the back.

I do love when my husband takes control and tells me how to kill someone, but I felt bad after we’d removed the tips of his fingers and head, and buried his corps vertically in the woods over a dead rabbit, so we took his final delivery to the person’s house and left it on their doorstep.

It’s not their fault their driver never made it.

(Yes, of course, we destroyed his phone before taking him out of town, I know those trackers aren’t the most accurate but it still might be a little suspicious to see his little car driving past the city limits)

Anyways, things were going well, we might have nearly gotten pulled over for indecent exposure a few blocks from the house, they were going really well. And then we got home.

Obviously, we left Casey at home. She could have left if she’d wanted, but we warned her against going out to hunt without checking in first. Since we’d heard nothing all evening, we assumed she hadn’t gone out.

But when we got home, the front door was open and the living room was in shambles. We found blood on the doorhandle and on the carpet. As we were looking around, a police car pulled up because the neighbours had reported noises of someone in distress.

Casey was officially reported missing on Monday night. We’ve heard no word since.

I can’t stop thinking that we’ve been here before. Another girl, another killer, another life out of my control. Why can we never have calm for one fucking minute?

We’ve taught her well enough that she is more than capable of taking care of herself. So what the hell happened? Her wallet and phone and keys are still up in her room and though there were sounds of distress, no one saw anything.

How could no one see anything?

How could you hear someone crying out for help and do absolutely nothing? My little girl is out there and I feel so fucking useless.

This can’t be happening again.

Please, god, not again.

I don’t think I could take it.

Please, please, dear readers,

Stay Safe