The Vagabond Heart

This place, to Elnora, was like an open wound in her heart. A gaping, festering wound that would never quite heal. She had begun to question her own sanity. Why, after all these years spent away from the one place on earth she could think of that brought so many bad memories flooding back in, would she want to visit this place?

Elnora turned to stare up at the stars again, hoping deep down that if she wished - or prayed? - long enough - that all of this would end up having been nothing more than a bad dream, and she would wake up and Sonia would be alive and well, and outside in the back yard playing with her Frisbee and her father would be sober and her mother would be happy. But she knew better. Drunk is drunk and unhappy is unhappy and, in Sonia's case, dead is dead, and there was no in-between.

The hospital, long decayed and on the verge of collapse, had apparently cut corners at every opportunity; the drab gray walls were peeling, the linoleum floors warped and discolored, and, in some spots, smeared with blood. Blood stains left behind by other victims of Ben Carter's white slavery ring.

The shooting of Sheriff Ben Carter was ruled as self defense. After a full investigation, all of his past crimes came to light within the public eye, and a lot of unsolved crimes and mysterious disappearances were laid to rest, and many local families finally got the much needed closure they deserved. Everyone except for Elnora. The painful memories she thought would fade with time still lingered on, and she knew they would never go away unless she faced her own inner demons head-on....