No Escape

I have been avoiding any unnecessary thoughts about Patrick's murder for the past almost month since the two year anniversary. I'm just not in a place where I can put any thought into it and come out OK. I've gotten to the point where I can drive by the murder site without gasping for air and feeling stabbing pains in my chest. I don't drive the last route he walked very often anymore, and I barely grimace when I drive past his old place of employment. I have to make a conscious effort to keep these things in check, I know how easily I will find myself swept away if I so much as shift my footing.

Tonight Pete and Ian went for a walk by our house and noticed a new marker on the banks of the creek, oh, 100 or so yards away. It's a commemorative plaque for two children who were murdered in 1953. I remembered my daughter saying something about the murders when we moved into the house. Her boyfriend's dad told her about it, and I looked it up online. I don't know if I never found any good information or what the deal was, but I thought the kids were abducted and never seen again. Pete pointed out the plaque said "homicide victims", and I argued that maybe they found enough evidence for the theory, or something. He wasn't convinced.

Since I can't be wrong, or at least, hate wondering if I am, I looked online.

Well over half the hits on the first page dealt with Patrick's murder, as it was the first in the town in 31 years (Apparently we'll all be safe for another 25- 30 years, seems to be the time frame for murders here. Thanks, Patrick, for stepping up to ensure the rest of our safety.) I typed 1953 on purpose, I didn't want to see his articles again, but there they were, saying, "Bitch, don't you know you can't escape?" Load of bricks straight to the heart.

I also found out I was wrong, the children were found at the site of the plaque, within sight of our house. Yippee.

Stupid fucking murderers.