Adapted

Trackers

I found a girl half-dead in my tree house and in under twenty-four hours that same girl had made a miraculous recovery, haunted an entire police department and myself with her mysteries and escaped a hospital whilst under police protection. These were the facts that surrounded the many uncertainties of Ivy whatshername.

Detective Martins decided not to interrogate me today, and it was a good thing too. If he had of, this statement is all I could give him and it didn't contain any valuable information.

I couldn't tell him the name Ivy gave me.

Katie Milner. The police have put their priorities on finding her which means they most likely will. If they do and I've given up that name, she'll surely find out and then she'll never talk to anyone ever again.

Especially me.

He drove me home and I kept expecting him to tell me when I would have to come back to the station or to drum up any information I might have that could help the case or even just to complain to me about this recent, stressful development. He did none of this, he drove me home in unsettling silence and I guessed he was probably as flustered as I was and didn't feel like beating a dead horse by talking to me.

It was six o'clock by the time I got inside, exactly twenty-four hours since I found Ivy. I slunk in through the door feeling mentally drained from the drama of the day. I was surprised to find mum wasn't in the kitchen as she'd usually be by now. There was no screaming from Daisy as there usually was when I came home and no complaining from Ewan about how I'm 'home five seconds and already causing a ruckus.' Sure, my life may be upside down right now but that doesn't mean everyone else's is.

I didn't want to be bombarded with any questions so a part of me was glad no one was home, the other part of me just felt irrepressibly lonely and confused. None of the detectives talked to me about what happened and no one was home for me to talk it all through with. I was trapped in a limbo full of unanswered questions and a fear of the mysteries that surrounded me, right outside my back door, in my own garden. I was trapped, unable to move forward, no one to console me.

A mad man could be running around Devon as we speak. A murderer in Cornwood Village, and Ivy who was already once a victim, could also be out there. Maybe this is all as much of a mystery to her as it is to us? Maybe we all have varying degrees of information- none of which form a coherent case. Maybe Ivy is just as lonely and confused as the rest of us are.

Maybe she was, but she'd asked me to help in a way. She'd asked for me to find some girl. I didn't want anyone to feel as lonely as I did now. I didn't want her to be trapped in her own headache, the least I could do was try and help.

The desire to help ached through me, it pounded in my head and nauseated my stomach. It mixed with my adrenaline, but I didn't give into it entirely. I knew that my efforts would be more therapeutic for me than likely helpful for her. They'd at least occupy my mind, make me feel useful, I didn't even know where she was to give her any information if I found it. I suppose trying wouldn't hurt though.

I didn't want to go into the back garden, things still feel weird and unsettled. I was pretty sure the place was haunted, either that or it was a bad omen. Logistically, I was at least seventy-five percent certain I wouldn't find another dead or dying chick in there but at this point I wasn't ruling anything out. The place is as soaked in eeriness now as it is blood. Thing is, my phone's in there so I don't really have a choice.

The sun was setting opposite my back door, the sky's painted with pinks and oranges, warmth radiated through the country scene making any normal person feel comforted. But I wasn't normal, and normal things hadn't happened here. This was still my back garden, a back garden that belongs to a house that exists too far away from any potential witnesses. Every shuffling leaf sounded like imminent danger, the glow of the sun blinded me, the fresh air tasted cold.