A decade had passed since Briarwood High had been shut down, but it's final demise was set to take place in a day. Demolition crews would be there in the morning to blow the whole place up. "DO NOT ENTER" signs were prominently placed on every entrance and windows were boarded. Jackson McCullogh, class of '97, stood at the back door and stared up at the beautiful brick building. Briarwood High had been a huge part of Jackson's life. His mom taught there and that was where he and all of his siblings attended school. Most importantly, Jackson had met Molly in the third floor science lab.

Molly Landers had long chestnut hair that parted in the middle and honey colored eyes that hypnotized anyone she talked to. Jackson took a deep breath at the memory of her walking in for her first day. Her Jansport backpack on one shoulder, her trapper keeper in her arms, and she had a big smile for everyone as she was being introduced to the entire class. Jackson knew the moment he saw her that he would have to get to know her. So he did everything he could to spend more time with her, even flunk a few tests so she could tutor him. It worked. They became the "IT" couple, won prom King and Queen, and took on NYC together for college. They spent every second they could together and they were happy.

Jackson and Molly daydreamed for a life time. They would make it big in NYC, and once they were ready to start a family, they would move back to Briarwood. Molly would be the breadwinner, she was in finance, and Jackson would be a stay at home Dad if his marketing career didn't go anywhere. Their dreams never ended up panning out the way they planned. One September morning, Molly went to work and never came back. Jackson saw his future crumble to the ground on television, and the dust appear outside their apartment window.

Jackson, at the memory, wiped a tear away from his cheek. He broke the chain on the doors of Briarwood High and ran in. The hallways were covered in graffiti from floor to ceiling but he didn't care to look at them as he raced to the third floor. He ran into the lab and took out a spray can from his pocket. He slowly walked to where his and Molly's table used to be. It had been 23 years since they first met in this room, but for him his love for her remained just as strong. Jackson turned to the wall and sprayed: "We were in love here." He kissed his fingertips, touched the wall, and walked out. The next day, he watched the school building crumble to the ground, and the dust appear around his car, with nothing but memories to hold onto.

Only in dreams can I recall his strength, His laugh, his face, tattoos on his fingers. Those fatherly words that soothed at great length, That feeling I hope forever lingers.

He once crossed borders to far away lands, Now he visits from ethereal planes. Fields and factories had calloused his hands, Now no evidence left of earthly strains.

What I would give for this to be real, To be back to when he snored in his sleep, Then he'd awake for a second base steal, And cheer on the Cubs for a three game sweep.

Those days have passed and now, sadly, are gone, But I'll hold his hand tightly 'til the dawn.

The bow tie itched. Charlie tugged at his collar wishing he could just take off the darn thing. He felt comfortable in the shoes, dress pants, and jacket, but the bow tie was too much. Someone smacked the back of his head and he turned around. At first, all he could see were a pair of dress pants, he looked up scowling. His brother, Matthew, scowled right back at him.

"Leave it alone, booger." Matthew then looked away and put a hand through his hair. "Mom'll kill ya if you look all messed up in the pictures."

"She won't notice." Charlie retorted.

"Don't kid yourself, kid."

"Don't call me kid!" Charlie hated when Matthew acted like an old man. He was only three years older. Sure, he was tall for his age, and Charlie quite the opposite, but ever since he started high school, Matthew thought he was a grown up. His mom's boyfriend, Steve didn't help matters much by always calling him "big guy" or "big man".

"Then stop acting like one." Matthew growled. Charlie couldn't help but give him a great big shove. Matthew stood unaffected, his right eyebrow lifted. "Look Charlie, I'll let that one slide. It's a big day. Once those doors open, hundreds of eyes are going to be on you carrying that dumb pillow. You can't mess up because there will be cameras all pointed at you, and if you do, it'll go viral. You'll never live it down. Mom will always remember that on one of the most important days of her life, her youngest KID couldn't even walk down the aisle right. Steve will be even more pissed than the day you broke his cell phone. I will be the favorite forever."

Charlie's eyes widened. All he wanted was to take off the bow tie, not be laughed at for the rest of his life. He turned back around. Looked at the pillow in his left hand with the two rings. All he had to do was walk in a straight line for a minute...max. Matthew was just trying to scare him again.

The sound of heels came towards them. It was Amy, Steve's niece, followed by all of the bridesmaids. Charlie could tell Matthew and Amy had a little thing for each other. They weren't related but it was still gross in Charlie's book. Their mom in her wedding dress was quickly approaching, it was almost game time. Charlie was not nervous a bit, he was still angry at Matthew. With everyone distracted, he decided he'd shoot his shot. He bent down quickly and tied Matthew's shoelaces together. He'd show him who couldn't handle being a viral sensation.

The doors swung open, Charlie passed through the doors in time with the music. It was Matthew's turn. Charlie didn't look back but heard a big thump and a girl scream. The whole church gasped and the music stopped. Charlie smiled from ear to ear. Who was the big man now?

Cecilia closed her eyes tightly. She took a deep breath that reached every inch of her body from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. In and out. In and out. That perfect rhythmic pattern she turned to when she needed to slow the downpour of stress and emotions overtaking her. In and out. Slowly she opened her eyes. She was still unsure, scared, and overwhelmed, but slightly more calm.

The world had become an unsure place in the matter of weeks. Schools, restaurants, events, all were shut down. The once bustling city, halted by a preventable outbreak. Cecilia found herself alone more often these days. Her family, though in the same household, felt like they were a world apart. They needed to stay home but each of them had to be separated. Her mother and father had underlying conditions and were left without jobs. Her brother was isolated in his room struggling to breath with the disease rapidly chipping away at his normally positive outlook. He was losing hope. Cecilia was losing hers as well.

She was the only one left, being the only one with papers made her the one with the most opportunities. For her parents and her brother, no social security number meant no job with health insurance. No insurance, meant no affordable possibility for a hospital. Her brother needed medical help. Her family needed a roof over their head. She had to step up. Never mind her cancelled school year, prom, or graduation. Her sadness over the loss of these rights of passage had to wait. The reality at hand was far more dire and important.

Cecilia, closed her eyes once again. Took one more big breath in through her cloth covered nose, and out through her cloth covered mouth. She opened her eyes and looked at the person on the other side of the clear plexi-glass. With as much joy as she could muster, she said, "Hi! Do you need any bags today?" and she began to scan the food on the belt.

The cup of coffee in my hands looked like muck at that point in the night. I was glued to my desk for hours on end and there was nothing left but the grinds. The desperation of catching this savage killer had me drinking the unthinkable as a new brew was out of the question, there was no time for that nonsense. The clues were right in front of me. The answer had to be there.

My partner left me to my madness hours before. I figured she had had enough of my ranting. My favorite bar, my favorite restaurant, hell, even my alleyway all had a mutilated woman within the span of two weeks.. and I saw nothing. Heard nothing. This cretan worked swiftly and deftly under my nose and I was left with a bunch of puzzle pieces with no picture.

Things had been tough at that point. Even before the dubbed Neighborhood Slayer came into the picture, I had been working long hours, avoiding the realities of my life, the loss of my son. It proved too much for me to go home and know he wouldn't be there. My wife had been complaining that I spent so much time away from the house, that it made me spend even more time away. Truthfully, I still don't remember much about that period in my life. Still don't like to think about the chunks of time missing from my memories.

Anyways, I was at my desk. The evidence laying out in front of me. The victims all had the same traits: dark hair, light eyes, petite. I looked up at the family portrait of me, my son, and wife...my wife with dark hair, light eyes... and just like that a flash of a memory came to me. My wife screaming at me, pointing her finger in my face as I was brushing my teeth...then silence. Snapping out as fast as the memory had come to me, I looked at victim one, her teeth were missing. Another flash, my wife crying at the side of my son's bed, clutching his baseball jersey. Victim two was wearing a softball uniform. Victim three, poor victim three, the alleyway...my gut dropped, the details too gruesome for even me to talk about.

However, the final memory flash of that night, wasn't of my wife, but my dark haired, light eyed partner. She was telling me to go home. She was yelling at me to go home, even though she knew there was no "home" for me anymore. My anger started to fill my body and then the silence came. I shook my head. Stepped away from my desk, and there she was, my partner in a pool of her own blood at the foot of her chair. I fell to my knees, knowing things would never be the same again. The answer wasn't just in front of me the whole time, it was me.