A Portal to Leya (3 page)

@heather
no
thanks.

@2cents
I don’t need your asinine advice. Losing a dog and a human are two entirely
separate items. You’re a buffoon.

2cents
I loved that dog like a brother. Yeah you need to get a grip bro

DISSASSOCIATED
AMENISA

Ok,
I did it. It was painful, like jumping into a pool of ice; but I went to
school, faked it. I'm great at faking. The novelty is gone, so I can be
invisible again. But focus is impossible. I’m trying to listen to teachers but
their voices drone on like an annoying hum. One part of me knows I need to care
but the other part is lost. It’s as if my brain is split in two. One side is
for Leya and the other half is on pause. Someone asked me today if I know who
murdered Leya. How the hell would I know? I said. He told me to fuck off. There's
a bunch of rumors that Neal Lourdes is the killer. No surprise. Was it Neal
Lourdes or someone else? Maybe it was me. Maybe I blacked out. Could I do
something like that? Could I have some freaky psychotic break? I think it’s
called Disassociated Amnesia. I remember it on CSI. This guy seemed normal
enough and then murdered his family, kids too. His last memory was of
scrambling eggs. He didn’t remember a thing. No trigger. No signs. Then when I
got home today, a detective was waiting for me. That didn’t make me feel any
better. Jake, detective Jake, came to our door, said he wants to speak to me.
Dorrie made an arrangement because I wasn’t ready so I lied said I didn’t feel
good. So, I have to go tomorrow. I know it’s not me. I know I could never kill
a person, especially someone like Leya, someone I loved more anyone else. So
why do I keep getting that weird glitch in my head? And what if I seem
suspicious, too nervous? I could be a prime suspect. What should I say? How
much should I tell? Neal never said he would kill you. I don't know. Wouldn't
he have said it at some point? Maybe he did to you. I never heard him. Maybe he
was careful not to let anyone else hear. Sociopaths can have high intelligence.
I read that somewhere and I thought I was one.

Lance

COMMENTS

Susanne
I
found some email which proves Neal was abusive. I’m sure detectives will
consider it as solid evidence. I can’t believe he’s not arrested yet.

Suz,

Neal
actually pushed me so hard I fell backwards and hit my head on the fence! I
hate him. The owner of the miniature golf range insisted on calling the police.
They talked to us both. I said I didn’t want to press charges that it was not
intentional and we were joking around. Still, they took all our info and made
me go in the ambulance to the hospital!!! Now my parents are involved. It's a
nightmare!! It's just a small cut!! But it bled everywhere. And I did get
dizzy. 4 staples!! My parents told me I have to stay home for a couple days and
they don't want me anywhere near Neal. I guess it is for the best. He really is
a loon. I don’t know why I’ve stayed with him anyway. He never leaves me alone!
I'm trapped. Going to Lance's. At least I’m allowed over there and my cutie
Francis is deploying in a few weeks or so!!! He is so hot. Call me or come
over!!! I miss you!!
See ya
Leya

@
susanne
I remember the staples. She showed me but she never told me the truth. She said
she fell. I could kill that jerk.

TOXIC
EM FIELDS AND THE IMPOSTERS

I
looked out the window at Leya's dark house and I got an urge to walk, smell the
night. It was cold as hell. The wind was freakishly strong. I kept thinking the
wind was a sign from Leya. So, there I was, outside in bare feet, short sleeves
and shorts. I’m stuck in a bizarre dream zone lately and it scares the crap out
of me. I stayed away from Leya's house. I can’t go near it. It’s too lonely,
and there’s too much melancholy. That word just popped in my head and it’s one
of Leya's words, and I knew it was her, feeding me, guiding me. It’s unlike me,
to knock on doors and talk to people, neighbors I don’t really know or care to
know. So, it must have been her working inside me, filling me with positive
currents, adrenaline. I wanted to ask if anyone had seen Leya that night, or
anything at all that seemed suspicious. All I discovered was emotional
intensity possibly from an overload of electromagnetic fields. There are five
or six transformers in our neighborhood. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make
any damn sense at all. We are being poisoned! I should call the electric
company. It’s disgusting. People are being poisoned by electrical currents. I
just can’t think about it right now. The old Lance would have been on the
phone. The old one is gone now. Anyway, I wasn’t spared the idiocies of an old
lady blubbering over her lost cat, a kid screaming, a kid spitting, a dog
growling, a rude ass man and not one person saw Leya that night. Not one!
What's wrong with these people! I’m suspicious, paranoid. Call it what you
want, but maybe they are all imposters conspiring to keep the truth from me. I
saw her. I saw Leya that day, after school, walking with Susanne and I should
have yelled to her, said hi, something. I should have gone outside, but I was
feeling strange, mad, jealous I don't know. I hate feelings. I don’t know what
I’m feeling most of the time. If I did, I would have talked to Leya. But here's
the thing. I was mad because I saw her with Neal after school and when I waved
she didn't wave back. I decided I wanted to hate her. I decided I'd never
forgive her for not waving back. I made shitty choices. Now she's dead. And
maybe I was so enraged, I did it. Maybe the energy particles are flowing
upward. I feel it. I have to believe it or I might as well die too. This blog
is my only hope of reaching her.

Lance

.

COMMENTS

Susanne
 Lance!
For God's sake do NOT blame yourself. Your blog makes me cry. It’s not hard to
do these days. But I can’t stop reading it. Leya forgives you. I know she does.
She really loved you, Lance. But she is gone. We need to move on. Please call
me. I see you need help.

@susanne
I got your number. But, sorry to say, I won’t call. I hate the phone. I don’t
like wasting words— unless they are for Leya. No, I don’t need help from you or
anyone. And as for moving on, speak for yourself. I can’t abandon Leya right
now. We are connected.

THE
SUSPECT

I saw Neal Lourdes. He was standing in front of the Blackwater's
house last night. It was dark, but I know it was him. I could tell by his dumb,
lumbering gait. He had a cigarette in his hand. I saw the tip glowing, watched
him bring it to his mouth. I peeked out of the blinds in my bedroom. He just
stood there smoking like some buffoon, staring at the house. And then he walked
past my house, up towards the cul-de-sac. He got into his truck. It was parked
right in front of Trudy Markus’s house. I think it was her, standing next to
the truck. But it was too dark to tell. 10 minutes passed and then he drove
away. I’m surprised there isn’t a restraining order. Maybe he doesn’t care. Or
maybe he feels guilty. Or maybe he misses her. Or maybe he never killed her and
it was someone else. I mean Neal said he’d kill me. But I don’t think he really
meant it. People say things they don’t really mean. He loved saying I’ll kill
you wimp. But he never did it. And I was never afraid, never thought he would
do it. Wouldn’t I have been more leery if he really was a psychopath?

I’m going to Trudy’s. I feel manic. Here’s what I
think: I think Leya is instilling me with positive energy waves. I am charged
with her. I have to hope. Thank God for this blog, for Leya’s energy. She is my
motivation to move.

Lance

COMMENTS

Heather
I’m
happy to see you are feeling hopeful! : )

Susanne
Yes,
I agree it’s odd how Neal is hanging out with Trudy Markus. I wonder if she
knows something

TRUDY
MARKUS

I went to Trudy’s. I was so brazen. That’s a Leya
word, brazen. She always had good ones. She’s feeding me words, confidence. I
feel her so much lately. Here’s what happened:  First, I walked up Trudy’s
driveway and heard the Sex Pistols blaring. Second, Emilio Markus the
grandfather answered the door. He smelled like booze (no surprise), looked
disheveled, unshaven, a dour expression. I asked if Trudy was home and she
appeared, suddenly, from around the corner.

“What do you want with her?” she asked me. Trudy was
wild. But then again I always liked her. I’m realizing this now, as I write:
she was like a wild trout (don’t ask me why I said that). I felt an urge to catch
her. She was wearing black lace gloves, a red velvet scarf and her hair was
dark with one purple streak. Her lips matched the scarf. She moved in closer,
and I noticed her fishnet stockings and black combat boots. Grandpa Emilio
grumbled and walked away. “So, I’ll ask again, what do you want from me, lad?”
She really said that, lad, and it made me pause and I liked her even more.
Let’s just say, I was intrigued. She didn’t’ say dude, she said lad. I got
right to the point and asked her if she was home the night you were murdered. I
took a deep breath, kept my voice calm. “Who wants to know?” she asked.

 “Me,” I said. I was so
extremely composed. I surprised myself. She told me she had already been
through the “inquisition” that’s what she called it, and she was irritated. I could
tell, but I kept at her, asked if she recalled seeing Leya on her bike between
5:30 and 6:00, if she was home. She kept saying no, no, no, but I had a hunch
she was holding back. I don’t know why. I swear it was Leya, feeding me
positive waves, confidence. I drove the ball home: “Do you believe Neal Lourdes
killed her?” She didn’t bat an eye. She called me stupid. “Neal could get 40
years in prison unless he has an alibi” and then I added “Did you know that 10,000
criminal are wrongly accused in the US?”  (I read that somewhere) “You want
that on your conscience?”

“That's crap! That’s
crap! You are such an idiot! Neal Lourdes could not have done it!”

She was vicious, pit
bull-vicious, shouting, foaming at the mouth. I told her he was abusive, and he
used to bully Leya. I told her how Neal had a motive because he was obsessed
with her and how she wanted to dump him, but he wouldn’t let her. She called me
crazy, freak, all kinds of names. Then (this is the part that made me flip) she
said she was with him the entire night so that he couldn’t have done it. Man, I
was blown away. I tried to stay calm but my damn body failed me, and I started
shaking. I couldn’t breathe. It was as if all of Leya’s positive energy burst
out of me and left me hollow, breathless, shaking. “What the hell are you
talking about?” I managed. My voice got high and quivered. I felt my lip
twitch. “You know you are Neal’s alibi? Do you know that? Do you know you’re
his ticket to freedom? Did you tell anyone, yet?” She said no and that she was
not going to the police. I mentioned perjury, how she could be charged with it
if she withheld important information. She looked at me strangely first, like
she was confused, and then she smirked.

“Neal told me it’s all good,” she said.

My heart was literally pounding out of my chest. I
started pacing like a freak. I was mad at myself, for my weakness, at her, at Neal,
at Leya, even, for leaving me there empty and speechless. “What do you mean all
good? How? How is it all good?” I asked. (It gets more bizarre). She confessed
that she was a lesbian and was in a relationship and she didn’t want her
girlfriend to find out about Neal. I was freakin’ dumfounded, fuming. I didn’t
care what Trudy thought now. I kept pacing like some damn caged animal. “Listen,
I don’t care about your lesbianism, but you could be Neal’s only chance!”
I
was a maniac. I couldn’t help myself. I thought maybe it would make a
difference. It didn’t.

“You weird ass jerk,” she threatened, “do not even
think about going to the police or my cousin Manny will beat the shit out of
you. I mean it.” She put her finger right in my face. I wanted to bite it. I
swear I wanted to bite it off. I could actually feel my teeth sinking into her
flesh. It would be so easy, I considered.

“Get off my fuckin’
porch before I call the cops, freak!” she yelled and slammed the door.

Here’s the thing. It
was rage. It was raw. I owned it and it felt good. I think Trudy made me this
way. Maybe it’s a combination of rage, passion, desire. I can’t tell. I hope
I’m not a sociopath.

pm

I
can’t eat. Dorrie keeps staring at me oddly. She looks worried. I don’t have
time for her. I keep thinking about Trudy Markus, reviewing what I said, what she
said. It’s a glitch in my brain. And I have these questions, big ones, pricking
my brain like needles. How could Neal NOT use Trudy as an alibi? What the hell
is going on? If Neal is wrongly accused then the real murderer will rape and
kill again. Why would Trudy be Leya’s boyfriend? Susanne’s email mentioned that
she knew about Leya and Neal. But Leya never told me. So did Leya know about
Trudy being a lesbian? I guess that would make Trudy bisexual. I’m so damn
confused. Leya would have told me. Leya couldn’t keep that a secret. She told
me everything. I am so weak, deflated, like a popped balloon. So what now? Do I
tell the detective?

Lance

COMMENTS

2cents
interesting
twist. If she actually is his alibi, I mean