I’ve written about this topic before, but it is on my mind again. I don’t know why. It stays with me.
A classmate of mine was murdered in 1981. We were in the same 8th grade history class. I’d spoken to her only once or twice. She was just a girl who sat in the back row, but she comes to mind frequently. I read in the newspaper that she had pet rabbits.
Her case is written about here. A few months before her death, a man tried to break into my bedroom. I was 13 too. He stood near me and watched me sleep. I woke up and he ran off. My mother packed my suitcase and sent me to stay with my grandmother that afternoon day.
There’s no reason to think this man was the same man talked about in Tina’s story–the man who stands over girls while they sleep. But I can’t shake the possibility that it was.
I think about 13-year-old Tina and her last night. I think about another girl who was attacked months later but survived. It would be nice to say that her death had a huge impact on the school or that my classmates talk about her to this day. Her friends must, but as I recall, our school did nothing to remember her. Nothing. And no one I know seems to remember. What? They say. Who?
It’s sad. It bothers me even now.