Hidden in the innocent

I have never shared this story with anyone. Years have gone by, I have watched people come and go, lost family, and now I live alone. I need to share this story before I leave this world. Maybe, just maybe someone may be helped by hearing this.1

It starts many years ago. I lived in this house with my wonderful husband. This was a beautiful neighborhood, family oriented. Times have changed since then. My husband and I were never able to have children of our own. So when a lovely family of four moved in next door, we were delighted and hoped to make some new friends.
It was a beautiful summer day, not a cloud in the sky. You could smell the crisp air and the freshly cut grass throughout the neighborhood.
A moving van pulled up to the white with blue trim house next door. Two moving men jumped out as a green minivan pulled in behind it. A pretty lady, blond, slim, stepped out of the passenger side. Her husband, or at this time I assumed her husband, stepped out of the driver's side.The woman opened the sliding side door and out hopped two excited young children.A little girl and boy.
The little girl had the cutest braids in her hair with pretty pink ribbons at the ends.
The young and vibrant little boy, so adorable with red curly hair, and freckles galore.
They began running and playing in the yard, while the parents spoke with the moving men.
As excited as I was to have new neighbors, I hustled to the kitchen to bake up a welcome.
Hours later as I was watching television and waiting to deliver the baked goodies. I remember hearing sirens. An odd sound in our neighborhood. So I rushed outside to see what had happened hoping none of our friends had been hurt. To my surprise there was an ambulance at the new neighbors.
EMT's rushed in the house while the parents and the son stood on the front lawn. 2

My heart sank, I did not notice the little girl. I was frightened so I rushed over to the couple to see if I could offer any assistance.I introduced my self to the mother and asked if she needed anything. To which she replied,"No thank you, there was just an accident." Her reply was so calm, I assumed it couldn't be about her daughter.3

I watched the stretcher being wheeled out, with a body on it covered from head to toe. Not a good sign I thought, but way too large to be a child, and a mover walking out beside it crying. It was then I knew who was under the blanket.The ambulance drove off and at this time the mother, Mrs. Klide and I finished our conversation.
"Hello, my name is Shelly. What is yours. " She asked. I replied with my name and asked what happened if she didn't mind.
She told me how her, her son and husband were in the kitchen downstairs when they heard this horrible thudding. They rushed out petrified because her daughter had just headed upstairs. That was when they found the mover at the bottom of the stairs with a mattress on top of him.
Now this conversation went on for quite a while, when her daughter, Ginny, came skipping out the front door with a big ole' smile on her face.
Mrs. Klide turned to her, " Ginny, where have you been, haven't you heard all the commotion?" "No mommy, I was in my room listening to this." As she pointed to her walk-man and flashed me and her mom a huge white toothed smile. Then ran off inside without bothering to question what had happened.
Months had gone by, my husband and I had grown quite fond of our neighbors, especially the children. Bobby was a sweetheart, but Ginny was our favorite, with her heart of gold and award winning smile.
One day while Ginny was visiting she begged me to let her walk our dog peanut. I was a little nervous to allow this, being that Ginny was only 7 and peanut was my baby.This was the first time I had ever seen another side of Ginny. She was quite upset, no matter how much I tried to explain it to her. She yelled at me and stormed home.
The next day I felt so awful when I awoke. I decided to have my morning cup of coffee and go next door with peanut, So Ginny could walk her with me. The problem with that was I couldn't find peanut. I ran around frantic, I couldn't find my baby.
I ran next door, knocking frantically, when Bobby answered the door. I Noticed he had this horrible huge bruise on the side of his face. I asked about peanut, and what happened to his face. He swore he hadn't seen peanut and ignored the question about his face. I asked if Ginny was around, he took off running upstairs. I heard this large bang, the Ginny came down stairs.
"What was that? Is everything OK?" I questioned her. " Oh yeah, probably my mommy dropped something in the bathroom." Was her answer. Which I replied," Oh, um, Ginny, have you seen peanut, I can't find her anywhere?" "No Mrs. H, honest. Do you want me to help?" I accepted gladly any and all help was great.4

We made posters, called veterinary hospitals, shelters. Weeks went by and nothing. My husband and I were heart broken.5

Now this part of the story I can only tell you from hearsay and what Ginny told the police.6

Ginny was taking a bath, and Bobby needed something from her room. Now I am unsure of how or why he looked under the bed, and what possessed him to open the box. Maybe just brotherly curiosity. He found the key to her lock box she had under her bed and opened it. Now inside that box he found my peanut. Bobby must not have known what to do I'm sure. All I know is he was looking in the box when Ginny walked in. He threatened he was going to tell their mom. They argued and fought like siblings do, but what happened next is gut wrenching.7

Bobby turned to walk out of the room and Ginny grabbed a cheer-leading trophy she had on a shelf and stuck it into the back of his neck. In doing so he fell to the floor and couldn't move, Ginny later told the police. I assume she must have hit something important in his neck. He was still able to scream, and scream he did, " MOMMY, MOMMY?!" Ginny then sat on top of him while yelling,"shut-up, shut-up.." repeatedly, while she buried that trophy into his throat over and over until he stopped screaming.
At this time her mother came rushing into the room. She took one glance at Bobby on the floor and Ginny covered in blood still holding the trophy, and began to scream." What did you do, oh my god, what did you do?!?"
I have no idea what was going through her mind at this time while she rushed down stairs to the kitchen. Ginny running after her," what are you doing mommy, it was an accident, honest."
Mrs.Klide reached for the phone to call help for Bobby.8

Yet another disturbing moment was about to ensue. Ginny pulled the largest knife out of the chopping block and stuck it into her mothers back.9

I haven't any idea how many times she stabbed her. All I know is when the police arrived and entered the house, Ginny was still stabbing her repeatedly. Until the cops ripped the knife out of her hand and pulled her off of Mrs. Klide.10

Once again I heard that unfamiliar sound next door and rushed out, just in time to see the cop carrying out Ginny in his arms. Flailing, thrashing, and screaming," Mrs. H couldn't know, She couldn't know!!"11

I heard through news and neighbors they placed her in an asylum. Her father use to visit her weekly, but as the years went by, the visits stopped. I am unsure of what has become of Mr. Klide or Ginny.
In closing I just want to say, heed warning. Somethings are not as they seem.
She was a strange little girl. Her eyes black with anger, and her hair braided with ribbons.
Nichole A.Dustin (C)
12/28/2007