She Was Mine

“Where could she be? I haven’t seen her in…she always stays in touch; what in God’s name could have happened to her?!” shrieked Lucian Cantes. His closest friend, Jadyn Lucaas, hadn’t been seen in almost a day. The 18 year old was covered in tattoos, had a ring in both sides of his lower lip, and was wearing at least a pound of eyeliner.
“Now son, there’s no need to get out of control, we’ll find her,” Officer Formansky assured.
“If you had been doing your fucking job, maybe she wouldn’t have been gone this long,” Lucian shot back at him.
Formansky stood up, “You just wait a minute, now; don’t get an attitude with me. I’m the one trying to help you.”
“Fuck you,” Lucian yelled, jerking up towards the door.
“Sit down. I have something to show you,” Formansky grunted. “We found something we think may belong to Ms. Lucaas.” Lucian sighed, rolling his eyes. Then he sat up a little straighter. In the man’s hand was Jadyn’s Celtic silk bag her grandmother had given her. She kept it with her always. Tears began to swell up in his eyes. Running his had over the black silk; he spoke softly, “where did you find it?”
“Out near the river.” Formansky emptied the bag, all of its contents falling to the gray table in front of him. Lucian began with a soft laugh, “Her lipstick; the color that made her feel sophisticated and important. The note from her psychiatrist, her ticket to Taste of Chaos, even the marble she had kept after her father’s death; he taught her how to play.
Her matchbook; she was old fashioned, and her empty pill bottle; her psychiatrist had her on something to keep her from going bonkers on everyone.”
“So she was, mentally troubled?” Formansky interrupted. Lucian glanced up and just shook his head. He continued.
“The band aids that she kept in there; you never know when she would get inspired and want another one. Yeah, she liked pain. Tattoos, piercings, any kind of self destruction. She was into it all.” Officer Formansky eyeballed Lucian.
“She was always looking to replace her emotional pain. We have gotten tattoos together since we were both fourteen.” With his eyes, Lucian hurriedly searched through her things. He noticed something was missing. “Officer, did you find anything else with her bag? A folded up piece of paper, or…a poem?” he trailed off.
“No, nothing like that; just a crumpled up receipt.” “Why?” The officer watched his face with a sharp eye.
“No reason,” Lucian quickly replied. He looked up at the dimly lit ceiling, thinking about where Jadyn could be. The officer’s expression changed from slightly annoyed to vexed. Lucias sat and fidgeted with his lip rings.
“Is there something you wanted to tell me, son?” Formansky said. “Anything you knew about where she was going last night?” He was convinced now that Lucian knew something about her disappearance.
“Yeah,” Lucian replied. “She was supposed to meet who sent her the poem, or whatever. That’s all she talked about since she got it.”
“Tell me about it, Lucian,” Formansky said.
“Well, she found it under the door to her room one day. There was no mark of where someone got in, or anything.”
“Did you see them, Lucian?”
“No. I wasn’t there when she got it.”
“Did her mother know about this?” Formansky asked.
“Are you kidding me? Her mother could care less whether she was alive or dead. Ms. Lucaas wasn’t exactly the greatest mother on earth, you know? She beat the shit out of Jadyn a couple of times, and when she did, Jadyn always came to stay with me.I am the only person that ever really cared about her,” Lucian replied, looking down at the tattoo on his inner wrist. He ran his hand over it with a smile.
“Okay son, you are free to go; for now.”
Lucian stepped out into the darkness and lit a cigarette. He walked for an hour in the freezing cold night, wondering what to do next. When he got home, he collapsed into a deep sleep. The next morning he was woken up by a banging on his door. He was greeted by a cold voice.
“Mr. Cantes, it’s Officer Formansky. I need you at the station right now.”
“Alright!” he screamed. He hadn’t changed from the night before. Lucian looked a mess.
“We found the poem you were talking about. We need to ask you some questions.” Formansky grabbed Lucian and threw him into the back of the car. He watched as the trees and houses flew by.
“So, have you found her yet?” he said, pursing a cigarette in his lips. Formansky smiled, knowing he had an upper hand on Lucian.
“No, but we know where she might be. I need to know more about this guy who sent it to her.” Lucian looked the man straight in his eyes. “What do you mean?” Lucian said, the cigarette falling from his lips. He knew he wouldn’t be there long.
Formansky started by smacking his lips in disgust. “I know your little game pal, you didn’t want Jadyn to find out who it was, did you?” “No chance of her knowing if anyone else cared for her as much as you, right?” “You wanted to keep her for yourself, didn’t you?” Lucian’s hands were clenched. His knuckles began to turn white.
“You don’t understand,” he started with a furious look on his face. “She was mine. I loved her!”
“And that’s why you couldn’t take it when you thought she would be taken away from you, isn’t it?” Lucias shot straight up out of his chair.
“SHE'S MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND! I'VE NEVER LOVED ANYONE LIKE HER...AND NOW SHE'S MISSING ALL BECAUSE SOME STUPID FUCK TRIED TO SEDUCE HER? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?! I DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE IS, OR WHAT HE DID TO HER!” He dropped back down into the chair, digging his fingernails into the table. Black tears poured from his eyes.
“You have to tell us where she went that night, Lucian” Formansky said with an unusually soft voice.
“Alright,” Lucian shrieked, "She went out to the river to wait for him.
So they left the station, and Lucian instructed Formansky where to go. When the police car pulled past the river, Lucian told him to stop. It was an extremely cold and pitch black; they had been at the station for several hours at this point.
The fog was so thick; Formansky couldn’t see the body in front of him. Almost tripping, he gasped at the sight of the beautiful girl as the fog began to rise. She had several tattoos, like Lucian. Her long, black hair was thrown over her pale face; Duct tape was across her mouth, and around her hands and feet. Bruises and cuts took up more of her skin than ink, and she was softly sobbing. As Formansky bent down to move her hair from her face, Lucian grabbed his pistol from his belt.
“Lucian…” Formansky yelled. Lucian smiled, tears running down his face. He didn't see the figure walking towards them." You son of a bitch,” he yelled and pulled the trigger. Formansky shrieked, “LUCIAN!”, but it was too late.
The man howled in pain, and charged even faster.
"I TOLD YOU, YOU LITTLE PRICK! SHE'S MINE!"
Lucian fired the gun once more.1

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