"Citizens of Dalyville are still in disbelief with the return of Jaycee Thompson, the teenage girl who was supposedly murdered years ago. Four years ago, the then fourteen year old Jaycee Thompson disappeared after she failed to return home from a late night walk. She remained missing for over a year, until the police received an anonymous phone call from a man admitting to killing the fourteen year old girl. Not too long after, officers supposedly recovered Thompson's remains, along with clothes that belonged to her. Although there were quite a few fragments of bone reports stated, there were not enough to fully identify the victim. But police confirmed, considering the tip, that it was most likely the remains of Jaycee Thompson. However, earlier this week, a young women wandered into the police station, claiming to be the deceased Jaycee May. DNA tests and police have confirmed it is in fact Thompson, now eighteen years old. Officers and citizens are stunned by her re-appearance, with questions rising that consist of where the eighteen year old has been for the past four years, and who's remains are buried in Thompson's grave," the news lady spoke in a firm and informing voice as my father and I watched from the couch. I was still pretty big news, considering I returned only a few days ago.

  This wouldn't pass for a long time now. This is what I will be known for. For the rest of my life. I will always be the girl that came back from the dead.

  The reporters outside had died down a bit, but they were still there. News truck and cars still lined our street, along with police that held them back. But the police didn't leave either. There was a permanent car parked outside 24/7, although I didn't know why. Perhaps to make me feel safer, after all, they did think someone was threatening me. Perhaps they thought it would start all over again, however I knew that wasn't true.

  As another news person came on, they just went over my story again, only wording it a bit differently. The words "Exhume Grave" were written across the screen as the reporter explained how the police began their investigation, mostly on who that Jane Doe was lying in my grave. I was rather curious myself, wondering how long that body was lying in the forest. Was she there when he buried me? Was I just on top of her remains? Were they beside me? Or perhaps somewhere further away? How did they even know it was a female? And how did my clothes end up by her body? That was, in fact, the reason police believed her to be me. And then, suddenly, another thought struck me.

  Did he steal clothes from my house? Did he break into our house? Did he kill that girl who's remains were found? He had to of, considering I was buried close by. Or did he in fact know I escaped, and killed another girl to take my place? Perhaps he wanted everyone to think I was dead? Why else would he bury my clothes on top of those poor girls remains.
Had he been following me, tracking me all that time I was in Jackville? Did he know I was there? Did he watch me? But if he did, why didn't he just try and kill me again. No, perhaps, he truly thought I was dead, and he just got lucky when the police found the other girl's body. Perhaps he buried my clothes close to where he buried me, and just so happened to be in another girl's body. Perhaps he had nothing to do with the other girl's death. Maybe he just got lucky? But I will never know these things.

  "That poor girl's family. And they may not even know their daughter is truly gone," my father spoke as his eyes were glued to the television. I guess, he could relate all to well.

  "How do you mean?" I asked as I though of it to myself, how would her parents not know she was missing?

  "Well, maybe she moved away a few years ago. Maybe they thought all this time she was away at college. I don't know, but as far as I know there aren't any other missing girls around here," he finished speaking as he glanced back at the tv.

  "Well, how will they ever know who that is? I mean, they couldn't tell if it was me or not. The only evidence they had was from that caller. There was no skull the police said, so they couldn't test the dental records," I spoke back as I remembered the parts the police explained to me the first night I got back. My dad paused for a moment, as I could tell he was thinking of the whole situation.

  "Yeah. I don't know how they're going to figure it out. But I hope, for that girl's sake, and her families, they do find a way, and soon," he spoke back as he then went back to the tv, which now showed an old picture of me, and then flipped his head back to face mine. "That reminds me. Detective Holden called last night. He wants you to come in to answer a few more questions today." I began to tense up as I heard the words 'detective' and 'questions'. I never liked answering questions, especially now when it came to this. What do they want now?
I ran it through my head, the questions they would ask me. What else do they want to know? I don't understand. What else is there?

  My nerves got the best of me as I swallowed down a lump that had begun to rise. Maybe I should just go back to my room, try and relax for a bit. I do not want to be all jumpy and up tight when I go to the station. Then, they will for sure know somethings up. And as I got up to leave, I started to walk up the stairs slowly, until my father called for me again.

"Oh, Jayc wait! I've been meaning to give you this," he paused as I turned towards him from the first step. He reached into his pocket, as he dug for something and pulled out an old Samsung cell phone. I stared at it in confusion. "This is one of my old phones. Here, I want you to have it, so I can always reach you whenever you go out. I want you to take it everywhere you go," he explained to me as I reached out and took it gently. To be honest, I didn't really care for cell phones anymore, not like I used to. Now-a-days you could track phones anywhere, and sometimes, I really did not want to be tracked. It would have been helpful in the past, when I was taken, but back then my father didn't want me to have one—probably because he didn't want to pay for it—and I wasn't old enough to have a job yet and pay for it on my own. Five dollar allowance a week didn't get you much, unless you saved and saved, which I never did. I didn't learn to save my money like that until I reached Jackville, when I tried not to spend anything and only on things I needed. I had saved a lot of money then, around $20,000, and that's what I liked to keep it at. I brought back that money with me, and I hid it in my room, in case I had to run again. After all, something could come up, and I could get out again. I never told my dad or the police where I really went, never told them about Jackville, and never told them about Tara. For all they knew, I hid out in abandon buildings in Maryville, which was close by to where our town was and Jackville. I had to lie to the police, in case I had to get away again. If I told them the truth, where I really went, that would be the first place they would look. That couldn't happen. And Tara made me promise not to tell anyone about her, about the time we lived together in that town. I couldn't break my promise. That just wasn't me.

  "Wow, thanks Dad," I hesitated to grab it, thinking he would just yank it back and yell 'sike' but he did not. I wasn't all that thrilled about having a phone, but if it made my dad feel better knowing he could see where I was at all times, then so be it. I grabbed the phone as I put it in my back pocket, and then continued up the stairs once again.

  "Jaycee!" a few reporters shouted as we both went out to the car again, except there weren't as many anymore. A few stragglers left that stood behind the police barricade in front of our house and street. As I got into the passenger side, I buckled my seatbelt in a hurry, wanting to get out of there fast. My father got into the vehicle in a hurry as well, before starting it up and driving away. The station was about a ten minute drive away. Not too bad. But it seemed to come so much quicker than that, most likely because I dreaded going there. I dreaded not telling them everything. I dreaded coming up with more lies and adding on top of others. It felt like torture in a way.

  As we pulled up to the station, it seemed like a lot of cars were there today. Many lining up the streets and onwards. We circled around more than once, trying to find a spot close by. But ultimately, my father decided to park one street over, for there was not anything closer. Oh well, it was a nicer day today.

As my father alarmed the car from behind us, we began on the sidewalk that led up to the station. The police station was on the corner of Walnut avenue, which was one of the busiest streets in our town. Most of the stores and shops around here were all placed in strips, like one big strip mall. But the station stood all by itself, no stores attached.

As we approached the sidewalk that led to the station, I watched as the doors opened up, and stepped out two guys. Guys, that I may add, looked very familiar. And as my father and I got closer, I could tell he recognized them too.

"Hey, Derrick!" one of the guys yelled towards us as they came closer too. And that's when recognize scanning in my head clicked onto a person, as I noticed who it was. It was Billy Kam, and walking beside him was his son, and my old friend Jake.

"Hey Billy!" my father yelled back as we then stepped up to the sidewalk and stopped right in front of them. My father and Billy shook hands and smiled at each other, until the two of them changed their direction to me. I gave a slight smile at Billy and Jake, as both their smiles turned to more serious faces while looking at me. Their smiles fading away.

"Jaycee. Hi," Billy spoke as his happy tone took a more calm and smooth tone, as I could tell he was feeling shocked. The same with Jake. I thought that was weird, considering I had been everywhere on the news lately. Surely they saw the articles and news following me. But yet again, the two of them were a bit old school, not owning much electronics and devices, like tvs. But surely they read the paper or listened to the radio. But, from their expressions right now, it seemed they did neither. Or perhaps it was just that they hadn't seen me in person yet. Not out in the open and out and about.

"Hi." I gave a small smile again as I looked from one of them to another, to the other again.

"I remember. I saw you the other day. When I was driving out of town. I saw you in the morning, walking into town," Billy then spoke after a moment of silence went by. I had a feeling he was going to bring that up.

"Yeah. I thought that was sort of odd. Mostly because I was sure you were going to recognize me," I spoke back as I remembered that cold, morning so well. How hard it had been raining the night before, and how drenched I was. Shivering by every second.

"Well, to tell you the truth I thought you did look familiar. I did think it was you at first, but I talked myself out of that thought. We all believed—"

"You were dead," Jake finished his sentence for his dad, as I then moved my focus onto him and locked eyes. His expression seemed to be much more drastic than his father's, as his eyes were wide, looking as if they would pop out of the socket. It looked quite scary if I'm being honest. It was odd to see Jake again, considering he hadn't changed one bit. Although, I hadn't changed that much either, it had only been a few years. Not like it had been a decade. Jake still possessed that jet black hair of his which was tossed, the same as his father's. He had always been tall, like my father. Close to six feet. But, yet again everyone is tall to me. He was also slimmer than before, something we both had in common. But something we did not have in common was our face structures. His was strong, as his jawline was smooth and straight out, which gave off an attractive look; mine on the other hand was only narrow-ish, as it was shaped into a slight heart. And his eyes, still the cool blue they had always been. I remember when we were both younger, how much we hung out. How close of friends we were. Best friends more like, like how Hanna was to me. Although it seemed to fade off a bit before I was taken, mainly because he had asked me out, and I just didn't feel the same way about him. I felt awful, feeling like I let him down in some way, and hurt him deeply. But it seemed to me that he was a tough guy, and didn't get hurt easily. Or at least that's how he projected himself afterwards. But I still felt that bitterness he had towards me later on. The feeling and sense lingering towards me when he was around.

"Yeah. I heard," I spoke back slowly as I was almost startled by his expression.

"Well, I'm thrilled to know you're not, and that you're back home and safe," Billy spoke back as he nodded his head and looked back at my father.

"We all are," my dad commented as he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me towards him.

"Well, we will have to get together some time. To all catch up," Billy volunteered as his smile then returned as he looked back at the both of us.

"Yeah, that sounds great! How about Friday night? At our house?" My father made the plan as his arm still remained around me. Yes, this is just what we need. A distraction in our house, so the main focus won't be of me.
But as I thought about it further, that's when I came to the realization that the dinner talk would still most likely be about me.

"Sure! That sounds great!" Billy spoke for him and Jake both, as he looked over at his son with a smile before returning his gaze to us. And with that, my father and him nodded their heads at each other, before our pairs went in the opposite directions of each other, and we headed towards the station.

The door seemed much heavier that day as I pulled it open, and that smell of leather and paper came rushing to meet me again, like the other times I was in here. I wonder if anyone else smells that, or if the officers in here have just become immune and don't notice it anymore.

We went over to our lefts, and sat in the chairs like usual, until an officer would come pluck us and drop us into an interview room. That officer most likely being Detective Holden. My father and I sat there for a moment, listening to people's murmurs and papers flipping and phones ringing. The minutes seemed to tick by slowly now, as it felt like it had been twenty minutes that went by instead of five. It felt torturous.

  "You saw Billy when you came back to town?" my father asked out of the blue as he turned his face to mine. It caught me off guard, which was like most of his questions suddenly. No warning at all. But what did I expect? For him to ask me if he could ask me a question every time? That was only for the beginning.

  "Yeah. When I finally came into town. I was walking on the sidewalk in the morning, soaked, and he saw me and asked if I needed a ride," I told him as I turned my face to meet his. He looked confused, but what else was new.

  "What did you say? And why were you soaked?"

  "I said no but thanks, I just wanted to walk alone. And it had been raining that n—"

  "You were walking all night in the rain?!" my dad interrupted me in a louder, and more angrier tone as he sat up straighter. I was startled at first, not expecting that at all. I shook my head slowly as I went on.

  "Well, there was no where else to go. I was on the middle of the freakin road. Forests were the only thing around me, where else would you of wanted me to go?" I asked him as I matched his tone, but a bit less intense. His expression than changed to more understanding, as he was going to say something again, but then shut him mouth tight. He exhaled in a fierce way, but that was all.

  "Jaycee? You can follow me." Detective Holden came out of his office as soon as my father and I's little argument dropped. And then I pushed myself out of those cushy chairs, and left my father in the waiting area as I followed the detective.

  "Here, take a seat," he spoke as he closed the door behind me and made his way over to the chair across from mine with the tape recorder out once again. My hands were clammy, like usual as my nerves were high again. It seemed the same pattern always occurred when I had to go into the station, well, that was my nerves continued the same pattern. "Alright. So we tested the bones that were in your grave again, and we have confirmed they are not animal. They are in fact human, and they belong to a young girl. I'd say between the ages of thirteen to eighteen," Detective Holden informed me as he kicked off the interview. I sat there as my hopes stopped, hearing that those bones did not belong to an animal. I had been hoping for that this whole time, that those were only animal.

  "I don't know what to say. Maybe, what's going to be done now? How will you find out who killed her?" I spoke as I didn't know what this girls' death had to do with me. Although I was upset, upset for that poor girls' family and friends, I just didn't know what they would want with me. What could I do?

  "Well, this guy you told us about. The one you bullied, the one who was threatening you. How well did you know—"

  "Wait, do you think he killed her? The guy who was threatening me? You think he killed that girl?" I interrupted him as I blurted my question out. How were they coming up with all these theories? Theories I had never thought of, never imagined. Sure, I tried to think of the things the police would think when I came back, but I never thought when I first returned that they were going to believe my story, let alone add onto it and theorize it.

"It's a possibility. And one we have to consider. We are looking into many things, and this theory is one that makes the most sense to me. So I ask you again Jaycee, do you think the guy that was harassing you was capable of murder?" he asked me again as he raised his eyebrows. I didn't know what to say at first, knowing for a fact that this guy who was 'harassing' me never existed. Well, one guy existed who was harassing me, but I never bullied him, and he never went to my school. He was only a stalker, and later became my captor. The monster to me.

Detective Holden's eyebrows began to wrinkle as I didn't speak back to him. And he waited some more.

"I-I don't know. Maybe? I mean, he had this presence about him. I always had an off feeling around him. He was unpredictable, not like most of the people I bullied. To be honest, I had a weird feeling he was capable of something like that, but I never said that out loud or admitted to myself. I just brushed it off," I added onto my lie and their theory as I made up more stuff. But the thing was, I didn't exactly make it up, I was talking about someone in particular. I was talking about the man in black. The one I saw the other day in the parking lot. Him. "May I ask, what is your theory?" I spoke up after as I was sure I knew it, but I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted to be sure.

"Well, we think he was sick of your bullying. Your teasing, and the way you treated him and others. So, he began to threaten you, follow you, stalk you. And then, the night came where you went out for your walk, and that's when he saw you. And he began to follow