Get Out If You Can

Grosses Bises, Moi

Hey Callenfield! It's me. I know you missed me! I missed you, loads.

I'm writing this letter because...well, help me here, I've no clue either! I love a good murder mystery as much as you do, and I love the ones that never get solved even more. Which is why I'll make this letter as vague as possible, while telling you all that you need to know, of course. Because, believe me, there are a number of things I think you've absolutely got to know. You can publish this in those crappy newspapers of yours. In fact, from the business point of view, I think you should. You'd get a fifty percent – or even more – increase in sales. I swear it.

First things first – the mystery of me. I'm dead. At the time of writing this, I don't know how. But I do know that I am, because, well, I know it. I've been planning everything from the end, and that is the definite end. And I don't want a funeral. I don't want people talking about how good and kind I was over my dead body. I don't want any of you hypocrites – yes, that is what all of you are, Callenfield – calling my death an unfortunate event, because it is not. It was planned. I'm not going to say whether what I did is wrong or right, because when I'm gone, I won't have a say in that. Either way, I'm not of 'sound mind', and it's usually people who are who make that sort of decision.

I will answer all your questions in this letter, but if you're looking for closure, you have come to the wrong place. This letter will not prove anything to you. If you really want to know the truth, you would have to ask those who were with me in Calleja Manor while my grand plan was in the process of execution. If they are alive, that is.

First things first. Why did I do what I did? Because of this. I couldn't stand being the only soul who knew what really happened to my sister. While I was alive and functioning among all of you, I had my proof – all in the box I've left behind for you – but all of you simply chose to ignore it. Ignore me. I forgive you for that. You're all too stupid for your own good.

I would never have killed anyone, including myself, if you chose to simply accept things for what they were. You didn't.

How did I plan everything? How did I stay alive all this while, with no one knowing? Here's how. It wasn't difficult. Once someone is declared dead in Callenfield, they are dead – whether the person in question likes it or not. If I were to show up at a grocery store, and one of you happened to recognize my face, you would assume me to be some sort of doppelgänger, and you would look away. Because that is how this town is. That is how the children of this town are brought up. We are taught, from an early age, to skip trouble. And even if it's staring us in the face, we are told to ignore it – for the sake of society. Ugh.

How did I plan it all? I'm not going to explain this. If the five are alive, ask them and hope they'll tell you the truth. They might not, so you've been warned. I don't want to bore you with the details.

What really happened? My favorite question. Finally, you're asking me. I've been rehearsing this answer for a major chunk of my conscious life — but too bad, no one asked, no one bothered to know or listen. Well, here it is.

Kari Tejada was raped by Derek Brown, Callenfield's prim and proper Mayor's son, one night when she was returning from a party. My best guess, from what I've seen on her computer, is that she had to suffer because she stumbled upon information that revealed Enrique Torrez had been murdered by either him, or people close to him. She was told not to disclose this information to anyone – or I'd be on the stake. Like I care.

And so, being the good sister she was, that is what she did. And that is how everything went wrong. I went about collecting proof – it's a miracle how much you find when you know where to look – and most of it was pretty authentic, but you'd turn it down, wouldn't you? You wouldn't really listen to something a certified crazy teenager had to show you, right?

Well, okay. Here are my sources. The videos and pictures of my sister were taken by me. The videos and pictures you see of street-camera recordings and school CCTV recordings are from someone I will not name, because I respect anonymity and I don't want to cause trouble to the person if they're still alive. If they're dead, and if you're asking me why I let them die, I'm the wrong person to ask. I don't know. Most probably, the person in question was in league with someone who killed my sister (at least, according to the brilliant deduction of Diego Torrez. After hearing it, I believed him completely. I hope he survives). And therefore, they died. You shouldn't tell lies here in Callenfield. It's the easiest way in and the hardest way out.

That is all about the proof I collected. The rest you will find in the box I left behind for you. About the vandalism? Again, I will not explain, I trust that the five invitees, if they're still around, will gladly tell you, if they've grown out of the habits they were called to this manor to correct.

What else? You want to know how I survived? Ha, I'm pretty sure my parents want to know. Well, it's like this. Apparently, Kari left, didn't she? No, that story was cooked up by me. I had access to her phone, her bank account, and her email ID. All the money you sent me, Mom and Dad, was well spent. All those emails you wrote her were read. I was watching you, all the damn time.

I shall not provide you the list of the people who accompanied me in Calleja Manor. A few of them – the ones who didn't get the invite – were either lured or captured by other means, and trust me, this place is full of people who'll do anything if you have a good price to offer. The five who were invited were lured through riskier means. I relied on their lack of association, and when they entered, I knew I was successful. What happened in the manor is not yours to know. Whoever was there, is aware, and even if you ask them for the details, they won't give you the real ones. If they do give you a story, be aware that none of them are telling you the whole truth – and, in my opinion, they are perfectly justified in doing so.

It is very much the kind of thing I would do.

If you're interested in why I let a whole bunch die, or at least, showed little to no regard for their lives, there's this – I don't know. When you live as someone else – to be specific, your long-dead sister you could've saved – you lose your mind. You go insane. I am crazy, now. I don't know what I am doing. If I was sane, or even close, I wouldn't spend a year planning something that could very well go horribly wrong.

There's nothing else to know. To Mom and Dad? Take care. Listen more. I do miss you, but not as much as I would've if you'd done what I wanted you to. To everyone who's alive? Lucky you. I didn't plan on that, but I made sure there were holes so you could escape if you were smart enough. To Callenfield?

My time's over – but all is not.

Kisses,

Cait