There is a moment in time when you realize you were wrong and all you thought you knew was false. I miss my ignorance. For, now the truth stares me down, beating at my heart like an angry drum stick. And yet, I’m still more confused than ever. For, sometimes, what you learn is you didn't actually know anything at all. Learning doesn't always mean gaining knowledge, it sometimes means losing it.

I will back the story up a bit. Taking it back to when ignorance and bliss coincided peacefully, hand in hand. Back to when I woke up yesterday morning.

I was unpleasantly aroused by the scream of a siren and the cries of my mother. My little sister, Suzy, was nowhere to be found. Though, her room was a disaster. Everything was turned over, broken and destroyed. Drawers pulled out of the dresser, bed upside down, closet door torn off the hinges and flung to the other side of the room. Mysteriously, there were leaves scattered around. And disturbingly, there were traces of blood smeared around the room. My sister’s body was in whereabouts unknown.

My entire family was irrationally screaming and crying. They were a mess. My father had to hold my mother back, so she wouldn't hit me. My own mother wanted nothing more than to hurt me. My father kept telling her that they'd take care of me, but not with violence. I didn't like the sound of that, either.

That is how I should have reacted. With irrational crying and yelling. I didn’t feel anything, though. The extreme, rib cracking pain I should have felt for my sister, with whom I was inseparable with, wasn’t there. I felt numb, as if somebody had hit a switch and turned off my ability to feel, to cry.

In my head, all I could think, was she couldn’t be gone. She would be home soon. My sister wasn’t dead. Even though I was relatively calm, I was shaking erratically. There was something in my chest that began to creep up as I walked to school this morning. An uncanny and overwhelming feeling that blended with a stabbing pain that beat on my brain and a dull ache in my chest. The only thing I truly felt, though, was unstable. As if I were about to explode or break apart.

At school, I’m not everyone’s favorite person. And that is putting it lightly. My parents hate me, too. My sister was the only one who actually cared about me. Other than her, everyone thinks horrible things of me, but they don’t know anything. At least, that’s what I used to think. I’m not sure of anything anymore.

All day at school, all I could see in my head was flashes of leaves and bushes. Thoughts about screams of agony and an endless garden, all swarmed around my brain. After an painful encounter with my old friends, I ran off campus. I didn’t even care that I was missing class or about how much trouble I’d be in. I couldn’t take the teasing. So, I left, and I never came back.

I had not planned where I was going, but after running out of the school, I just began walking. I didn't pay attention to where I was going the slightest. It was as if something was leading me, though. I felt as if I knew where I was going. It was like invisible strings were tied to my limbs, slowly leading my ghostly body.

I stopped in front of a garden. There was something about this garden that I could not explain at the time. My chest seemed to rupture. I didn't understand why.

I started to trudge into the garden, but only just disappeared into the greenery before doubling over and collapsing on the wet ground.

Mud caked my clothes, the cold water seeping in, chilling my skin. I sprang to my feet and started running. At first, I thought I was screaming, but then I realized the screams were coming from inside my head. I looked down at my hands while I was sprinting, and noticed for the first time, that there was dried blood all along my arms, smeared onto my hands. I had been wearing gloves and a jacket most of the day and yesterday. I had woken up in this outfit the morning Suzy disappeared, and never changed out of it. Though, I don’t remember putting it on or going to sleep in it. I had not taken them off until the walk to the garden.

The screams got louder.

"My name is Missy Grey," I reminded myself as the demons of my past and present begin to flood my mind in the form of memories. "My name is Missy Grey." I have to remind myself this often. For, I don't even know who I am anymore... or what I did. If I did... I start with my name and then work myself inward. Though, I'm still more confused than ever.

I think back to the encounter I had had with my old friends today, right before I left school.

I was hiding in the bathroom, trying to get my still lungs to take in breaths. Finally, though, and very reluctantly, I left the sanctuary of my solitary stall.

Almost immediately, I was unkindly greeted by my old group of friends. Crystal said, "Hey, baby killer."

"Where's your sister?" Chad, my ex-boyfriend, asked.

"I don't know," I answered, annoyed. "And I didn't kill my brother."

I closed my eyes and only saw a plastic bag slipping over a limp infants head.

"How do you sleep at night?" asked somebody I didn't know.

"You should just kill yourself, seriously," said another.

"You make me sick!" yelled Teresa. "You know, I believed you were innocent at first. Though, I had my doubts. Now, I see you were always guilty! It wasn't very smart to kill both of your siblings. How do you do that to someone? I don't understand. Destroying a human life? A human soul? Their hopes and dreams? And your own family!"

Sylvia, who had been my best friend before the accident over two years ago, spoke suddenly in a quiet voice, "guys... maybe we shouldn't be saying this stuff to her... she's... what if she... it's not a safe... just stop, please."

Sylvia's words hurt the most. Even though she was not saying the vile things her friends were, I could hear fear in her voice. I'd rather be hated and bullied than feared.

That was when I started to run. Behind me, I heard, "see ya' crazy!" and "heading back to the mental hospital?" followed by a chorus of laughter.

Mental hospital, I thought as I came back into reality, still running through the garden. Mental hospital. Two words that make me shutter.

Flash backs to when I was in a mental hospital zoomed through my brain like a movie I could not shut off.

White walls. Closed doors. Locks. The constricting and suffocating straps. Terrifying people all around me. Staring at me. Judging me. I felt like some sort of vicious creature. I felt insane. I felt horrible. I felt unloved. I felt like I was dead. My blood was cold, and even though I knew my heart was beating or I would have been dead, I could have sworn it had stopped. The creepy man who touched me one day- and was never punished for it, either. And worse of all, the feeling of hopelessness and despair. I never felt crazy, until I was locked up in that mental hospital, alone, with no visits from anyone. Not even my sister.

I suddenly fell, pulling me out of my disturbed mind. I closed my eyes tight and tried to breath. Something soft broke my fall. A nice pile of soil. My lungs struggled to take in oxygen. The smell of blood was suddenly extremely strong, mixed with the aroma of rotting flesh.

Last night, the news aired my sister’s story. I remember watching it with unblinking eyes. Sylvia was interviewed. She said, on live television, "I used to be friends with Missy Grey. Until she murdered her little brother. He was suffocated while she was watching him, and Missy was locked up. After a few months, though, they released her. There was no proof. I know she killed him; everyone in town does. She denies it, of course. What I wonder is, does she know she killed him? Anyway, I'd bet anything she did something to her sister, too. That girl's a monster."

Goose bumps that had nothing to do with the weather showered my skin and I felt sick to my stomach. After the news cast, I went into the bathroom to throw up. I still felt sick at dinner, but sat at the table anyway. My mother couldn't even look at me.

Another flashback ran through my mind. I choke my brother, squeezing his fragile neck. I tie a plastic bag around his head, covering his mouth and nose with my hand... and watching as his chest stops moving, heart stops beating... A tingle ran through me.

Back in the garden, I slowly lifted my head. I looked at the pile of dirt I had been laying shakily on. Screams returned to the silent air and I realized they were mine. The pile of dirt, turned out to be my sister's dead body. My head jolted back in shock, and I slammed it against a statue that had been right behind me. I blacked out.

This brings me to the present.

I do not awake until after the sun has set. Everything suddenly comes back to me: the screams of my sister, the blood, dragging her body out late last night, a shovel hitting her repeatedly. Me hitting her repeatedly.

Violent images of me murdering her return to me. Suffocating me. I begin to hyperventilate. I whisper, "I am Missy Grey... I am.... Missy... No, I am not Missy Grey... She never killed anyone... Though, maybe she did... Since... I'm confused... I don't know."

I killed her.

No, I tell myself.

Did I kill her?

No.

Yes.

No.

Yes?

I...

"Help me, please," I whisper into the cold air. My exasperated breath is visible, even in the dark.

My body begins to shake. Had that uncanny feeling I had felt earlier this morning been guilt? Did I do this?

I did it. I remember. The visions that flood my through me are so overwhelming they seem to be pushing my brain out of my head and collapsing my skull.

I killed Suzy and Todd.

I hear a loud, crackling laughter that makes my skin desire to crawl off my bones and hide under a rock.

New memories come into my mind, battling with the old inside my head, creating the mother of all headaches. I fear my skull will implode.

I am singing to my little brother, Todd. I used to take him for a walk in the park every single day. His first word was, "Missy." I imagine passing the trees, walking along the faded sidewalk, the weather always pleasant on my skin.

I am sitting on the bleachers with my sister, after our soccer game. He shoulder length bleach blonde hair that matches mine is messy, wet with sweat. Though, she is gorgeous. Her face reminds me of a porcelain doll. I was always jealous of that face. She was always more attractive.

We are laughing and sharing a piece of chocolate cake. We ditched the team and after game party so we could spend time together. We were so close. She was the only one who believed me when I told her I did not murder Todd. I spent nearly every second of the day with her.

I just don't understand.... which memory is real?

I hear the laughter again, and tears begin to stream down my face, and memories through my mind.

I am walking with my sister, late at night; we had snuck out of the house and were giggling, feeling the adrenaline rush through us. We come across a restricted garden, and go inside of it. Inside, we wander and talk. Then, out of nowhere, a horrible laughter is heard. We start to run, hand in hand. I promise I will protect her. I apparently did not keep that promise. A hand grabs my sister’s hair, seeming to appear out of nowhere.

The man to whom the hand belongs to hits her repeatedly with the shovel. I do not let go of Suzy's trembling fingers. Blood splatters, covering my arms and hands. I end up on the ground, holding her. I feel a hand grab my jacket. Suddenly, something stirs inside me; I twist around and pull myself out of my unzipped jacket. I run home, leaving my sister’s dead body in the garden. The man follows me to my empty house, where he chases me into Suzy’s room. Here, I fight to stay away from him.

The bruises all over my body suddenly come into perspective. I don’t remember the rest of the night. Only lying on the floor in Suzy's bedroom, and watching him walk out of the room. I recognized him as the man who touched me in the mental hospital.

The urge to scream, "what is real?!" surges through me.

I am forced to return to the present. I feel a hand grab my hair and pull my head back. Before I feel the blow of the sharp metal that I know is inevitable, my brain reels. I make a silent apology to my sister.

Did I kill her?

At this point, it doesn't matter.

Either way, I’m never getting out of the garden.





Can telling someone that they are crazy actually drive them to insanity? Is it possible that the human mind can be unhinged by the idea of being unhinged? Can the line between reality and fantasy be destroyed by words and accusations alone?

Nobody truly knows the truth behind Missy. Two days after the disappearance of Suzy Grey, Missy's body was found, along with Suzy's, in a garden not too far from their high school. Suzy was dead and Missy was in critical condition.

Missy was rushed to the hospital and her life was saved. Though, she was completely unhinged. She claimed to have been attacked by a man who had killed her sister. Though, the murder weapon was analyzed, and only her finger prints were found. It is believed she murdered her sister, and then tried to take her own life. When her body was found, she was holding the shovel loosely.

Nobody ever found the pair of leather gloves, deep in the garden, and stained with blood, that had been worn by a man with a shovel in his hand.

Everyone is ignorant to rather Missy is a murderer or victim. There are times Missy says she killed Suzy and Todd, and others she denies both. Though, one piece of knowledge is clear, Missy is no longer sane. When she was finally restored to full physical health, she was locked up in a mental hospital. She may have escaped physically, but mentally, she never got out of the garden.