The Rape of Proserpine

The Rape of Proserpine

 PROLOGUE

Exactly fifteen minutes after the lunch bell rang, Samantha Williams started to ask questions about where Marel Connelly went. Thirty minutes passed, he was still nowhere to be found. Samantha and all the others assumed he ditched the rest of the classes, which was strange, considering Marel was one of the students with high marks and perfect attendance. The rest of the day went on without a hitch. Marel made a record and that was that.

Later that night, unbeknownst to us, Marel’s parents began to make phone calls to inquire about their son’s whereabouts. Innocent at first, but they soon turned to panic and desperate calls the moment the first rays of the sun broke through the dark night. After twenty- four hours, the police was all over town looking for him.

There was no reason to suspect anything bad yet, the chief officer assured the Connelly’s. It didn’t provide an ounce of comfort for we already knew what he meant. Marel was missing.

Everyone was walking on needles. The piece of news the town’s folk received shook them to the bones. It was all new. A disappearance occurred in the quiet and sweet town of Appleton. I, for one, was impacted the most.

I should be.

No one knew what happened or how it happened. Days turned to miserable weeks, then sufferable months. Soon, a year had gone by, and still no sign of Marel. We had no idea if he was still alive or not. Where was he? Did someone take him? Who took him? Why?

The tragedy that struck us became a state phenomenon, even making it to CNN. Prayer vigils and campaigns were set up to sustain the flickering fire of hope that was already burning out. Eventually and quite inevitably, it did. In our heart of hearts, we knew he wouldn’t come back again. It was the end for Marel.

Behind the weight and intensity of the situation, lurked the funny part. Marel’s greatest dream was to become famous. He wanted to discover the cure for cancer. Sadly, he didn’t even make it past high school, but he got his dream. Was he happy and satisfied? Did he anticipate this kind of dream-come-true? I sighed, I couldn’t ask him now. He was gone.

Chills ran up and down my spine as a black butterfly fluttered its velvety wings around me. Almost instantaneously, the picture of Marel’s smiling face monopolized my mind’s vision. The same picture plastered in the front pages of the news papers, and the one flashing on the television screens of every household for countless nights. A reminder; a warning that anyone could’ve been in his position. Ignoring the butterfly perched on my shoulder, I looked up and glared at the sky. The beauty in it was captivating. Appleton was back to normal, almost. Of course, with the exception of the Connelly’s. The sad folks residing on the 23rd street were also victims, constantly asking the same question, what went wrong?

“Excuse me?” The butterfly on my shoulder flew away, circling around one last time. I looked behind and smiled. “I’m sorry I’m late. I’m Carey Adams, the supervisor, you are?”

I stuck my hand out and smiled wider. “I’m Darrel, Darrel Connelly.”