She walks with a purpose to the creek that lies just beyond the tide pools. No one goes there, and certainly not regularly. She's the sole exception.
She makes the walk to the creek at least once a week. When she arrives, she wades into the shallows, scoops a handful of mud from the bottom, forms it into a ball, pokes two holes, and covers the top in grass. It bears some resemblance to a human head.
If symbolism has any meaning, Jayne Connemara is innocent. Her blonde hair would tell you that. In turn, her blue eyes are nearly white. They'd make her a dreamer. And if she took care of herself, she might even be beautiful.
But she is none of those things. If our community shunned anyone, it would be Jayne Connemara.
She only talks when she absolutely must, and she's never once talked to me. I've lived next to her for five years, but never heard a word.
The story goes that before I came to Sawyer, she murdered her parents in the middle of the night and dragged their bodies out to the lake. They were found several days later washed up on the sand bar.
She won't even tell anyone if it's true or not, but no one seems to care.
When she was put on trial, she kept silent the entire time. No one could accuse her with any solid evidence, so she didn't spend a night in jail.
Supposedly, she was a vibrant young girl before the death of her parents. Now, she's a recluse living off of her parents' inheritance money, and there's a lot of it.
She's a mystery to us all.
That's all I know about her. That's all anyone knows about her.
