What She Said (standard:other, 11398 words)
Author: Jenkis	Added: Dec 18 2000	Views/Reads: 3725/2364	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Sometimes things are too obvious for anyone to notice. *FEEDBACK DEFINITELY AND MOST HIGHLY APPRECIATED*

one 

He sighed as the girl’s dark green eyes stared at him from the picture.
She had raven-black hair and pale skin, her name was Ruby Marr and he’d 
been looking for her for a year now. Well, for her or her corpse, 
whichever came first. He’d taken this case because he’d heard of the 
girl when she’d first disappeared back in 1976, eight years ago. The 
girl had been fourteen and he had been twenty-two, in his fourth year 
of Law School, and the story had particularly interested him because 
there hadn’t been any talk of the girl being kidnapped or a runaway, or 
perhaps there was something the police or her parents weren’t saying. 
He didn’t really know. The only thing that was made clear about the 
entire thing case the fact that she was missing.  The point was that 
the situation had struck him as very peculiar. But then months went by, 
then years and he had forgotten all about it. He had graduated from 
college, gotten a great job as a prosecuting attorney in the FBI and 
never gave much thought to the matter. That is, until fall last year. 
The police had arrested a man named Neil Smith, searched his house and 
found the bodies of fourteen dead girls, all missing since between the 
years 1977-1983. They’d also found two entries from Ruby Marr’s 
journal, one written December of 1976, and the other one on October in 
1980. Her body, however, had not been found. He was at once intrigued 
and asked his boss if he could work on the reopened case. He talked to 
Neil Smith himself, a man in his late twenties originally from England 
but who’d resided in Miami since 1974, with Ruby’s name tattooed on his 
right arm, amongst other numerous tattoos. The man insisted that Ruby 
Marr had escaped from his house in 1983 and that he’d never heard from 
her again. So the search for Ruby Marr was commenced for the second 
time around and now, a year later, they hadn’t succeeded. The police 
were starting to give up; besides, Smith was going to be tried in three 
weeks for fourteen other murder charges anyway. But the young attorney 
would not give up; he would find Ruby Marr if it were the last thing he 
would do. He grabbed the journal and started rereading: 

“ I wanna go home, I don’t want to stay, give up life as a bad mistake .
. . He’s sleeping now and I wonder if I have the guts to try and run 
out again, but I know I shouldn’t, last time he beat me so hard that I 
went unconscious for almost 2 hours . . . Why does this happen to me?  
He’s not so bad lately, though, he let me take a shower yesterday, 
after, I think it’s a week now and he brought pizza, but he still ties 
me up hard before going out of the house . . . I hate him . . . He 
laughs at me when he sees me writing in this diary, he laughs and he 
says if I’m writing this so that when they find my dead body they would 
know what happened to me? I told him no, I’m writing this so that I 
don’t go insane. He just stopped laughing and looked at me kind of 
strange before asking me to bring him a beer. That was three days ago, 
I think . . . Yesterday he brought me a book. I thanked him for it, 
anyway, my mother used to tell me that it doesn’t kill you to be polite 
. . . It doesn’t hurt when he ‘s with me . . . I’m kind of ashamed to 
say this but since it doesn’t matter anymore, I will say it . . . I 
kind of look forward to him being with me, I don’t feel so alone when 
he’s with me and that’s the only time he’s real nice to me . . . This 
is the first time I’ve admitted it to myself that I don’t dislike him 
sometimes even though I hate him so much most of it! I wish I could 
kill him when he hits me but I don’t dare touch him, lest he gets real 
pissed and starts beating me up even harder . . . He broke my lip the 
first night I was here and he made me pass out and that’s all I 
remember . . . I wish I was back home with my brother Kenny and my 
friends, I wish I could hear their voices just for a second . . . I 
wish I was dead, I wish I was dead, I wish I was dead . . . December 
26th, 1976 Ruby” 

He stood up now and grabbed his coat, looking at his watch; it was 10:30
p.m. and he would start checking all the clubs in Miami like he did 
every night, hoping to find Ruby. He closed his eyes for a moment, 
pictured what Ruby would look like now, at twenty-two, and sighed 
before walking out the door. 

*  *  * 

It was twelve thirty when he reached the bar “Dracula’s Daughter”
located in Castro Street and decided to go inside. The place was 
decorated in black velvet, black tile, and brass fixtures, and on the 
walls, pictures of cinema vampires were hanged. On all the TV screens, 
“Dracula” was now playing. On the stereo, a song by the new band "The 


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