Throughout the career of Sergeant Davis, there had never been a case that had haunted him like that of Mara Strauss. Mara was only twelve when she disappeared and in the town that she lived in everyone knew everything about everyone, so when Mara Strauss went missing that light summer day, dark clouds seemed to cover the faces of everyone. That only got worse when her body was found twenty miles out of town buried in a ditch. Of course, as anyone would expect, her parents felt everything on an entirely different level.
They disappeared along with Mara, locked up in their house, their lights a constant reminder of their patience for their daughter to return. “That was the most reasonable option for them to believe in order to stay sane, that Mara had run away,” Davis mused internally. You see, Mara was never an obedient child. She had a hard time comprehending what was right, and what was wrong, but nonetheless she was surrounded by those who told her what she might not understand. One of the most important things she was taught was a small rule by her parents. Every night after her parents would bring her into bed they would chorus, “What goes around comes around.”
Mara believed that to a great extent, when a classmate would take her pencil, she would take a pen. This never bothered many people, some people thought it was morals bubbling up in the Strauss girl. But she quickly turned violent. By the time she was ten she had shoved someone down the stairs, he was paralyzed from the waist down.
When she was asked, “Why’d you do it?” by the principal who had her holed up in his office until she had confessed to her actions, She would respond every time, in a sing-song voice,
“What goes around comes around.” The principal later found out that she had been tripped by him in the cafeteria earlier in the day.
Fifteen years had passed since Mara’s body was found and in the time that passed Mara had faded from the minds of those in the small town, she was forgotten. “But surely,” Sergeant Davis mused, “her parents would never forget.”
Davis was right in a way, they would never forget that fateful day when all went astray. But they would also never forget the day when Mara’s father, a doctor at and the owner of a small practice in the heart of the town, received a phone call from the front desk of his practice. It wasn’t unusual for Mr. Straus to be receiving calls as he was one of only three doctors in the entire town. However there was nobody on the other line, just heavy breathing. The call ended abruptly, a long high-pitched tone meeting the ears of Mr. Strauss. He thought nothing of it, maybe the call was just a misunderstanding.
When he arrived at home he had a meal prepared by Mrs. Strauss who had made soup for the pair. That’s when their landline rang, startling the two out of their seats.
“Well, go get it,” Mr. Strauss gruffly said while still eating. So Mrs. Strauss did so and brought the device to their table where she put it on speaker. The lights flickered, the phone turned to static, and when the lights flickered on they recognized a familiar face.
“Mara,” Mrs. Strauss whispered in awe, her hands shaking as they covered her gaping mouth, “How are you- you’re alive!” Yes, Mara was alive, but she could have passed for anything but. Her once shiny brown hair was matted and was now longer than waist length while her face was gauntly white and if not for her electric blue eyes which were previously her defining feature being present, she would have been unrecognizable. However, what was easily recognizable was a silver shining glint in her hand.
Mara started humming, a sweet tune, a familiar melody to the ears of all in the room. “What goes around comes around.” Again and again she repeated it, a sick smile etched onto her face. She lunged forward toward her parents, her knife raised.
Just a few miles away Davis got a phone call at his dinner table as well, “Sergeant Davis, there’s been a murder,” his subordinate said assumably from the crime scene.
He rose from where he sat, his dinner long forgotten, “Where? Where was it?”
“The Strauss’”
They disappeared along with Mara, locked up in their house, their lights a constant reminder of their patience for their daughter to return. “That was the most reasonable option for them to believe in order to stay sane, that Mara had run away,” Davis mused internally. You see, Mara was never an obedient child. She had a hard time comprehending what was right, and what was wrong, but nonetheless she was surrounded by those who told her what she might not understand. One of the most important things she was taught was a small rule by her parents. Every night after her parents would bring her into bed they would chorus, “What goes around comes around.”
Mara believed that to a great extent, when a classmate would take her pencil, she would take a pen. This never bothered many people, some people thought it was morals bubbling up in the Strauss girl. But she quickly turned violent. By the time she was ten she had shoved someone down the stairs, he was paralyzed from the waist down.
When she was asked, “Why’d you do it?” by the principal who had her holed up in his office until she had confessed to her actions, She would respond every time, in a sing-song voice,
“What goes around comes around.” The principal later found out that she had been tripped by him in the cafeteria earlier in the day.
Fifteen years had passed since Mara’s body was found and in the time that passed Mara had faded from the minds of those in the small town, she was forgotten. “But surely,” Sergeant Davis mused, “her parents would never forget.”
Davis was right in a way, they would never forget that fateful day when all went astray. But they would also never forget the day when Mara’s father, a doctor at and the owner of a small practice in the heart of the town, received a phone call from the front desk of his practice. It wasn’t unusual for Mr. Straus to be receiving calls as he was one of only three doctors in the entire town. However there was nobody on the other line, just heavy breathing. The call ended abruptly, a long high-pitched tone meeting the ears of Mr. Strauss. He thought nothing of it, maybe the call was just a misunderstanding.
When he arrived at home he had a meal prepared by Mrs. Strauss who had made soup for the pair. That’s when their landline rang, startling the two out of their seats.
“Well, go get it,” Mr. Strauss gruffly said while still eating. So Mrs. Strauss did so and brought the device to their table where she put it on speaker. The lights flickered, the phone turned to static, and when the lights flickered on they recognized a familiar face.
“Mara,” Mrs. Strauss whispered in awe, her hands shaking as they covered her gaping mouth, “How are you- you’re alive!” Yes, Mara was alive, but she could have passed for anything but. Her once shiny brown hair was matted and was now longer than waist length while her face was gauntly white and if not for her electric blue eyes which were previously her defining feature being present, she would have been unrecognizable. However, what was easily recognizable was a silver shining glint in her hand.
Mara started humming, a sweet tune, a familiar melody to the ears of all in the room. “What goes around comes around.” Again and again she repeated it, a sick smile etched onto her face. She lunged forward toward her parents, her knife raised.
Just a few miles away Davis got a phone call at his dinner table as well, “Sergeant Davis, there’s been a murder,” his subordinate said assumably from the crime scene.
He rose from where he sat, his dinner long forgotten, “Where? Where was it?”
“The Strauss’”
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