Rush Of The Fight

How The Hell.

The photo above is of Marcus.

He opened the dusty box to find that there only seemed to be pictures of Faith with her mother. They all seemed to be at least 5 years old by the look of Faith. "I don't get it. If the photos are the key to helping then why are they all shoved in a box." He looked back to the letter that he held in his right hand, now crumbled from rummaging through card board boxes of Faith's shit. Clothes, pencils, a red sock without a match, you name it, it was in those boxes.

Marcus,
No time to explain. Hoping this letter get to you before I reach him. I figured it out. Who killed my mom, and I have gone after him. You have to know that I am thankful for all you have done. If I don't contact you within a week, something has gone wrong. This will help to figure out where I have gone:
In a box that I hold dearly to me, there are pictures of my mom and I. Look closely within the box. You never know what you may find.
Be safe. And yes, I know, always make the bastard sing.

Faith.

"Within the box? What the hell?" He emptied the box and looked at the photos, looking all over to see if he could spot some type of clue on the photos. There was a red scratch on one of the photos, he placed it to the side hoping something good would come out of it later.  He looked toward all of the other photos, yet none of them had any strange marks or ligatures. Marcus glanced at the photos. "I better get these X-Rayed just in case.  Faith was crazy smart.  She wouldn't have just left these certain ones in here for no reason."

The box was big enough to hold quite a few photos, instead it only held ten.  The medium sized grey box had vines carved onto the sides, with details that only a carpenter would know how to add.  The finest details of oak leaves were carved in.  The strange part was that the inside of the box was dyed a different color from the outside. The inside of the wood was a velvet red.

Each photo was different in its own way, whether in different locations, or taken at different angles. However the one with the red scratch was different, in fact the more Marcus looked past the red scratch that crossed the main parts of the photo, the more he realized that it wasn't a picture of Faith and her mom at all. It was a picture of Faith and himself.  "Why is this one special?  This is from... what? Our Senior Year field trip together?"

Not only had Marcus gone to high school with Faith, but they also went into the force together. Always challenging each other, seeing who was better.  The challenge ended when Faith was left behind as Marcus got promoted to Detective. That never stopped their friendship though, they loved each other, and protected each other. Faith had his back and she always had his. It wasn't until Faith's mother died that the bond weakened. Faith became distant. She started to keep things more and more to herself, always leaving Marcus out of it. It was hard too. He wished to be there for her, but at the same time he knew she needed to work through the pain herself. She was so independent that it was really the only option that he had. He had once, after the funeral, stop by with flowers, chocolates, ice cream, and even a nice fluffy blanket to give Faith, in hopes that he could help her mourn. It didn't end well. She screamed him off the porch saying that she could take care of herself and that she didn't need his pity.

"What is so important about our Senior year?  I mean she could have chosen any picture of us.  Yet, she choose that one." He examined the photo more.  Taking his pinky nail he scratched at the red mark on the photo. "This can't be a coincidence either...  All of these other photos are in mint condition."  That was when he realized, that the red scratch on the photo was nearly the same color of the red on the inside of the box. Taking the photo he slid it in between the front panel and the bottom panel.  Nothing. So he tried again on the left side. Still, nothing. The back side. Nope. Now the right. Click. "Hells to the Bells yes!"