The
scariest monsters are the ones that lurk inside our own souls.
Edgar
Allen Poe
They
pulled a body from the bayou this morning.
It
was all over the news, of course, complete with interviews with her
roommate and friends and the police. There were pictures of the
neatly kept little brick house in the well maintained subdivision
where she'd gone missing two days ago. The reporters spoke with
shocked neighbors,
the
investigators said foul play was not suspected but they'd know more
after the autopsy and the toxicology tests. When I realized it was
someone I knew - not well, but she'd been a music fan and an aspiring
photographer and we'd traveled in many of the same circles – I was
stunned. When she was sober, she was a bright and cheerful soul,
optimistic and honest and a tiny bit grandmotherly in her muted
sweater sets and pearls. Tragically, she hadn't been sober that
often.
When
she was sober, there were happy social media postings about gratitude
and detachment and faith. Friends replied with encouragement and
well wishes. Her pictures showed her clear eyed and smiling,
positive about the future and determined to stay well. But when she
was off the wagon, there was nothing but silence, a worrisome and
fearful silence that we all knew too well. When she was off the
wagon, she looked for and found the darkness.
I
wish her peace.
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