The Lies She Lived

Chapter 5 - Eliza (Liz)

      "Where do I begin," I say, ready to unleash every negative thought I've ever had about Sergio that have never got the chance to escape through my lips.
      "he was an abusive, neglectful, manipulative alcoholic who was completely careless about how he hurt his own family. And he tried to isolate them from the family whenever we'd try to talk some sense into my tía about him. And I think he had a gambling problem too." I finish, feeling a sense of anger creep over me. Anger over how he'd mistreat Izzy, choosing nights at the bar overnights spent tucking her into bed. And although Izzy tried to act as if her father's neglect didn't bother I knew the hurt for that hit deep. Even deeper than the actual abuse. The memory of seeing him the morning Izzy's body was discovered comes back to mind. The puffy eyes, the dried-up tear-stained face, the soulless expression, pathetic. He had countless chances to love and cherish Izzy while she was alive, he took her for granted and now she's dead. Even with all that being said, do I really believe that he could've had something to do with Izzy's death? It's not impossible. Plus it would explain how I didn't run into the killer when I stumbled upon the crime scene mere moments after Izzy was killed. The killer wasn't roaming the streets of the neighbor, he simply walked right back inside of his house. If he is the one who did it then he's just as convincing of a liar as Izzy was. The fact that Sergio is a potential suspect for the killing of his own daughter dawns on me, and the fact that I'm able to think of very likely scenarios that involve him being the killer makes my stomach churn. He claims to have been sober for a few months now, what if he relapsed that night and came home drunk and heard noises from the shed. He could've thought that someone was trying to break in so he went into the dark shed and instantly started attacking her. The darkness and him intoxicated could've made him not even realize that it was Izzy or know the type of damage he was causing. But wait, that'd contradict Izzy's autopsy results. They said her killer took the initiative to torture her and make her death as painful as they could. That means he couldn't have accidentally killed her while intoxicated. I may have debunked that specific scenario but that doesn't mean he couldn't have killed her still. I'm trying to stop myself from thinking about how Sergio could've killed Izzy before I make myself vomit. Luckily Detective Chan soothing voice helps calm me a bit
      "That must've taken a toll on Izzy, the abuse. Is that what caused Izzy to change, the change that you mentioned caused a shift within the friendship?" I shake my head
      "No it wasn't that, Izzy was strong. She was able to deal with Sergio for the most part. But there is this one specific incident that I remember happening" I choke up a bit on my words as the memory creep to mind
      "where Izzy just wasn't the same after."

       It was the summer after our freshman year and before our sophomore year. My mother and tía came up with this great idea to have Izzy and I go to a summer camp together. I was 100% against it, summer camp to me was musty heat, big bugs, and being surrounded by woods you could easily get lost in. Izzy, on the other hand, was filled with glee. Her version of summer camp was campfires with s'mores, outdoor group activities, and boat riding in the lake. I tried begging my mom to not force me to go but she was convinced that it would be the perfect opportunity for me to work on my "social skills" and not be so disconnected from other people. My tía being able to convince Sergio to let Izzy go was even more reason for me to go, to my mother. Even with knowing that I'd have Izzy there by my side I still fought against going. It was apparent that my objections fell on silent ears as we drove on the road heading straight to Sherman's Summer Camp. I held my pout and expression of disdain for the entire three-hour ride while Izzy annoying tried to hype me up for what was going to be the "best summer ever" she's said. With promises of sleepovers, scary stories, and fun in the sun. If only she could've known of the horrors she was going to be met with at that damn summer camp.

      We had arrived at this decent sized campsite, laced with wooden cabins, several trails, and oh so many kids running around and unloading luggage from cars with loved ones. I grabbed some napkins from the glove department before getting out so I wouldn't have to use my already clammy hands to wipe the forming beads of sweat off my forehead. 50% because of the blistering heat of the summer and the other 50% due to my crippling anxiety of being surrounded by so many people. I was grateful that I had my hair in a half-up ponytail so it wouldn't be all in my face sticking to it. Just like how the back half of my hair that was down stuck to the back of my neck, and damp from my sweat. And of course, my mother being who she is just had to say something
      "Maybe if you'd take that hot jacket off you wouldn't be so sweaty." She said it loud enough that I think the closest family nearby even heard, hence the sudden snicker from the daughter directly after my mother said it. I pulled on my jacket to cover myself even more, like a turtle retreating inside its shell. Mother always knew how to make me feel so small, I wanted to just shrivel up and die at that moment because of her making my attire stand out even more. I had on an oversized jacket, the fabric was much thinner than it looked so it wasn't making me as hot as she assumed. A basic white T-shirt under that and some knee-length leggings and my usual tennis shoes on. Maybe it wasn't the most appropriate outfit for the summer heat but it was the most comfortable one for me to be able to wear without completely burning up. But don't expect my mother to understand that, which is why I didn't waste my breathe responding back, that didn't stop her from continuing to discuss it though.
      "Should've let Izzy help dress you so you wouldn't be a sweaty mess right now, sweetie." She said while gesturing to Izzy, who wore a pastel pink tank top with blue jean shorts and some wedges platforms on. As if I already didn't feel bad about how I looked, my mother just had to compare my look to Izzy's. Wishing I'd wear clothes that wouldn't accommodate my body just because they looked good on Izzy's.
      "Well, how about we hurry up and get signed in so we won't have to just stand around in this heat. These cabins better have air condition" Izzy said as she grabbed a hold of her luggage and started heading to what I assumed to be the main office cabin. I wanted to give her a small grateful smile when she turned back to see if we were following her. I knew that that was Izzy's attempt of taking the attention off me. That was one of my favorite things about Izzy, she would always be there in my times of need even without me asking her to be. She'd always be there to swoop in and rescue me. If only things had stayed that way, maybe we wouldn't both be in the positions that we're in right now.