August 8th, 2010
As I rode my bike trough the twists and curves of the leave drenched road I saw them; the perfect family. There was a dad probably about 6 foot 1 wearing jeans, and a light blue shirt. He probably worked a lot on the weekdays and had the weekends left to spend with his family. The mom was, well, average looking. She had dirty blonde hair to her shoulders. She wore a classy white shirt with pink flowers that was perfect for a nice autumn day like this. Then there were two children, a little boy about seven and a little girl about four years old. All four family members were holding hands and strolling with smiles.
It irritated me how perfect their family was. If I could even get my family out together at the same time, there is no way we would be holding hands, let alone smiling. My bike passed by them and I heard them giggling at some joke the son told. This really sickened me. I pedaled faster and when I was well away from them I slowed and sat on a bench.
I was across from the children’s playground but there were only two children. They were swinging on the swings and although they were only about six, I didn’t see a parent or guardian around. Curious, I walked towards them. Everything seemed perfectly fine until I heard a scream. It was a piercing scream, the kind that you still hear even when it’s stopped. The kids were not the screamers and my first thought was that it could be their parent. I to the kids to stay where they were and ran towards scream.
The woman was screaming again so she made it easy to find her. As I turned the corner I was surprised to see the mother of the perfect family, screaming and crying. I hate to say that I was kind of smiling inside. Maybe their family wasn’t perfect. Maybe he beat her or her kids were brats that flipped out when she said no to their request for ice cream.
I soon felt bad for wishing that. Dad was on the phone with 911 and the confused kids were sitting on a park bench mumbling. I walked up to the women hesitantly, having no idea what her next step was. “Wh-what happened?” I asked
“My hair! The bird!” She stopped talking after that as she fell into a huge rush of tears and I wondered why. The bird shit in her hair so what? Were they THAT perfect? I then saw she was pointing to the ground. I screamed too as I saw a bloody finger lying on the ground. Looking around I realized that the family all had their fingers, and connected that the bird dropped the finger in the women’s hair. No wonder she flipped out.
When I realized there was nothing I could do here but freak her and myself out more, I ran back to the children’s playground. The 2 kids weren’t there anymore and then I was very confused. Their parent must of picked them up. They couldn’t of gotten very far. I hopped on my bike and rode around until I saw a man in a black hoodie rushing the kids into his car and driving off. It wasn’t a kidnapping but he seemed so sketchy and nervous.
As I began to wonder if the finger and the kids connected in some way, I stopped myself. I’m not a cop or detective. What business do I have figuring it out? If I give the police all the information I have, I’m helping enough. I don’t need to do this. When I heard the women scream again, along with police sirens, I gave up that thought and decided that I did need to do this and I was going to.
I went to the restroom and when I returned to the “crime scene” the police were investigating and the news crew was showing up. I didn’t see the finger anywhere, and that irked me a bit because that is lost information. I felt like Nancy Drew or Harriet the Spy. I could be Investigator Misa. However, if I’m going to call myself an investigator I need to start investigating more!
My first thought was the man who took the children. He wasn’t with them when it happened or right before. What if he cut off someone’s finger and the bird picked it up? That would explain the rushing away while the woman was screaming. I decided to check it out, but first I took out my cell phone and snapped a few pictures of the crime scene and blood on the ground.
The man’s car was a black car. Small, I think it was a Camry. I also remember it had no plates. This was going to be difficult. I didn’t even know kids’ names! They were both blonde girls and about 6 years old. Finding myself in a stump, I kicked a nearby sign. The sign fell to the ground and as I put it back I saw it said “Smile you are on camera!”
Within a second I was on my bike again going towards the park’s little office. That was probably where the tapes were that recorded the man. If I can get a better look at him and the girls, I’m more likely to find him. When I got to the office there was nobody there. That didn’t surprise me because this is such a small park, but it was still a relief. All I had to do was break one little lock and I was in. Thank goodness our town is safe enough we don’t bolt everything. Well, it was safe enough. Now there was a finger cutting maniac on the loose! I got a rock and slammed it against the lock twice. I was in, and couldn’t believe my eyes.
The room was dark and musky with odd buzzing noises . It wasn’t as dusty as I thought it would be, but it had obviously been cleaned recently. There were several tables of different shapes and sizes, forming a rectangle, like a game of Tetris. Tools covered the tables, but not the kind you would imagine to see in a park maintenance office. These tools were definitely not leaf blowers, wrenches, and paintbrushes. There was a giant saw and scalpels. Bottles of some clearish liquid, gauze, wires, needles, matches, and rope. I snapped a picture and turned around hoping to find the tapes and get out of here.
All I found though, was a man. He was very tall and bald. He had an oval face with closed eyes. His chest was showing through his shredded shirt and had obvious wounds and scars on it. He was wearing pants that were drenched in what looked like grease or mud. When my eyes reached his bare feet, I saw the chains holding him there. I quickly looked up and noticed his hands tied above his head and also in chains. I ran over and looked at his hands. Just as I expected, he had only 9 fingers.
Quickly, I ran out of the room and nearly threw up. I was so appalled at the sight. After a few moments of much needed fresh air, I remembered why I went in there. I had to pass the man again to get to the tapes, but it was going to be worth it. Besides, I didn’t get to take pictures of the man or his missing finger, and I figured that was critical information. While taking the pictures, I realized he was still alive. I grabbed a knife but it wouldn’t cut through the chains.
“Hello? Can you hear me? Can you speak? Sir what’s wrong? Talk to me please.” He wasn’t responding so I gently slapped his face. I saw a bottle of water and reached to grab it. I tripped over a big black wire and came crashing to the cement floor spilling the water. I then followed the wire and saw the other end, a piece of metal that was making the buzzing noise I heard. It was attached to the man’s feet. I quickly unplugged it and slightly slapped him again. “Wake up!” I could feel tears backing up under my eyelids. This was very emotional. I had no idea who this man was, yet I cared so much. He had his finger sawed off and had been electricuted and cut and burned. He had to wake up he just had to.
After a few minutes of tears, I got myself together and decided to tell the cops what I saw. I had the tape but didn’t need it or want it at all anymore. I was done with this. This was over for me. Investigator Misa no more. I was sad, desperate, scared Misa and I needed help.
I walked out of the room aand saw the cops driving away. Shit. I was stuck in this. I just wanted a nice bike ride. How did this all happen?!? A moment later I heard a moan. It was thew man from the shed. I ran in there expecting to see him awake. Instead, I saw a familiar looking man near the man I thought was dead. I turned on the lights quickly while yelling, “STOP!”
The man stuttered because he knew I recognized him. It was the father. The perfect father. That vision shook me up quite a bit. He was so perfect looking out with his family, yet so evil looking with this man. “What. Are. You. DOING?”
“This isn’t what it looks like. Just sit down and we will talk about it.”
“No. I’m calling the police. You are horrible! Why would you torture this man? This is just, oh my god I can’t believe you!”
“No. No. No. No. Listen to me. This is all fake. Tell her Robert.”
The tortured man lifted his head with ease and smiled. “Don’t worry! It’s all a show. This is fake.” His voice was perfect and unharmed. I was so confused. I sat down without thinking. I don’t think I could of stood again if I wanted to. My body had gone into shock. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out.
“Ok um what is your name?”
“M-Mmm-Miisaaa.” I barely replied.
“OK Misa listen. No one is hurt. Robert and my wife and the kids were all in on it.”
“No one ishurt?” I yelled. “Nice fucking try! I already saw him. He is bruised and bloody and missing a finger! I consider that hurt!”
“No seriously,” the tortured man began, “The only thing that hurt was you slapping me earlier. I wanted to open my eyes just to tell you to stop, but that would blow everything.”
“Everything? What is everything? What is this all about? Why would you do it? And if you didn’t cut off his finger, who did and where did the other finger come from?” I realized I was still yelling as the mom walked out of the back room, perfectly composed. Again I started crying. This was unreal. What the hell was going on? Why did I have to get involved?
The mom ran up to me and held me comfortingly. Even though she was part of this whole mess, I didn’t fight back. “You said your name was Misa?”
I nodded between sobs.
“OK listen Misa, my name is Anna Stone.”
“Wait.” I sat up and confronted her face to face. “The Anna Stone?” She looked familiar in a way but I never would of placed her. “Like the author of Wizard School’s Anna Stone?”
This time she nodded.
“Oh my god wasthis all a publicity stunt?” I thought of this because her new book comes out in about a month and she was a big author, but a lot of people weren’t going to buy it until next year when it was on sale. The women bit her lip and the dad replied.
“We needed the money. The kids start school again in a few months and we can’t afford to buy new supplies. The book was going to bomb. We needed to get people talking.”
“So you faked a dead man and missing finger? That is sick! You are sick evil people! Where did that finger even come from?”
“It was fake and Robert is wearing a glove.” As the dad walked over to take off “Robert’s” glove I got up and ran. I did not want to be in there with those people anymore. I can’t believe they would do something like that! However, before I could blow this all off, I had to know what the man in the hoodie was doing.
Before I knew it I was home and watching the tape. I guess time flew by when I was trying to not think of what just happened. I popped in the tape and fast forwarded. That easily I got his liscence plate. I also saw him holding something. It was a camera. One of those fancy ones. Everything clicked. He was a paparazzi. I flipped to television and on the news I saw the story of the author and a finger dropped by her bird.
I knew the media was going to find out it was fake once the cops did testing. I figured anything I would say would be pointless. She already got the attention she wanted. Her book was going to sell, and there was no way in hell I was going to buy it.