The Neighbors

My parents were basically silent on the way home and I had no idea why. After pulling into our normally quiet and homely neighborhood though, dozens of police cars lined our street and that told me my original idea was the wrong one. Nothing would have prepared my eleven year old self for the news I was about to receive.

My brother Gavin and I always played outside after school and on the weekends. Our neighborhood was filled with kids who we hung out with, dogs that we pet when going on walks, and adults who my parents had drinks with after some work days.

In particular, two houses down from mine were our family friends, an italian couple who had a really cute dog named Sophia. My parents were really close with this couple, and Gavin and I trusted them with a lot. Stuff like talking about school drama and family issues felt so comfortable with them. They were the kind of people that even though they weren’t your aunt or uncle, you would call them that. Even the couple's niece was our nanny since we were two and four.

Their house was really cool. Cooler than mine, even though it was set up structurally similar. My house was painted with greens, reds, and blues and was really open and it sometimes seemed like you were outside because with the amount of windows we had. But their house was so modern with walls of all different shades of brown. They had a cork display that I really loved. It made sense for them to have it because they were Italian and loved wine.

Their dog, a shih tzu, was spoiled and always in pink clothes and pink bows or booties. Some days she looked like a newborn baby’s with one of those headbands with the huge flowers on it that is twice the babies size because of how pampered. I hate little dogs because I think they look like rats and they’re normally not too smart. Sophia was both not smart and looked like a rat, but for some reason she was a cute rat.

There was one day though, that changed this relationship and changed a lot of lives around me, including my own. I was in 4th grade and it was recess. I was playing catch with my friends who were in my class. We had just gotten in trouble for playing with the ball inside but instead of stopping, we continued to play catch just in secret. The classroom phone rang and the teachers aid went and answered it. It was probably a brief conversation but I didn’t notice how she reacted or anything because I was too busy playing lookout for my friends.

She came over to me, yelled at the group who was playing with the ball...again, and then told me I would not be going to Odyssey of the Mind tonight. Odyssey of the Mind was a nerd club where a team is formed and they must complete a task at a competition. My team had won the previous year and so we all stuck together to defend our championship name. I was upset not to be going to practice but my first thought was that my mom was like taking me for a surprise because it was February 12 and my birthday February 16.

After school I walked down to the main office and found my mom talking to the ladies at the front desk. This was not unusual because my brother and I had gone to this same school since kindergarten so my parents knew most teachers. We exchanged greetings and headed to the car. I asked her why I was not going to Odyssey of the Mind. She avoided the question, as she did many in the next few minutes. She changed the subject. I got in the car to find my dad sitting in the passenger's seat, which was extremely strange. I thought to myself, “Why would Mom and Dad pick me up from school together?” Nothing but an early birthday surprise came to mine.

After an uncomfortable car ride home, I realised I was not in for a birthday surprise. Not even close. Pulling into my neighborhood which was blooming with police cars, news reporters going door to door, and confused and sad neighbors all around. I remember not wanting to ask what happened, but I did right away. I stepped out of the car and breathed in the crisp air that surrounded me. I knew something was wrong.

I remember her exact words. “Mary and Daniel have passed away...they died”. I think she added the “they died” part because my little mind could not process hearing it just once. I did not want to cry in my driveway surrounded by neighbors looking on. Everyone knew our families were the closest in the neighborhood, so they were all curious to see what my reaction would be when returning home from school. Although I did not want to make a scene, I buried my face into my mom's chest and cried until she walked me to the front door to avoid the news reporters who were approaching because they heard me crying.

My brother came home on the bus about an hour later and my parents told him the news. Instead of crying, he was more curious as to know what had happened. My parents then told us together that it was a murder suicide. I don’t think I really knew what this meant but from Gavin’s reaction I knew that it was bad. My innocent mind expected a car accident or illness. Together as a family we watched the news and mourned. I remember a bunch of my close friends texting me because they knew that these people were like family.

I spent the following days crying and trying to wrap my immature brain around why this happened. Rumors floated the neighborhood but we were the family who knew it all because of our extended relationship with the family. I did not want to go to her funeral. I believed I was too young and that she would not mind if I did not go. I regret it now but I think at the time, it was what was best.

Mary’s family and mine continued to get close because of this tragedy. We had always been close, but I think this made us closer. One day, we were having dinner with our families. Our old nanny, Mary’s niece, gave me Mary’s blanket. It smelled like her and I was elated when she gave me it. It gave me a sense of closure and reminded me that she’s still here.

Weeks past and life soon returned to normal for our community. Their house went up for sale and people soon pushed what had happened to the back of their minds. I could not though. I still did not understand why this would happen. Who would think to do something like this and I continually wished I had had some answers. I could not get over it like others could.

I wasn’t able to sleepover or even go to my friends house because I was so scared to be away from home. I was scared that something would happen to my family or something would happen at the house I was staying at. I had night terrors and thought that I was being attacked by him. I did not have a good night’s sleep for over six months.

We had one family session with a therapist to try and find closure a month or two after the event. I don’t know how much of an impact the session had on my brother and parents. For me, I did not talk in the session. I was intimidated and worried that if I started talking about it I would cry which would be mortifying. The therapist and my parents agreed that I should begin coming back on my own for one on one sessions. I agreed with some motivation. I wanted to feel normal again.

She was actually really easy to talk to. I thought therapists didn’t have to go to college because all they had to do was be able to talk and listen. She informed me that I was wrong by blowing my mind with techniques to calm me down that actually worked. It was hard opening up the first few sessions but I began to take down my “trust wall” and let her see inside my mind. We worked hand in hand with my parents too, giving them information and tips to help me sleep through the night at home.

Almost five months later, I slept at someone else’s house which was a huge step. I remember calling my parents at like 7:00 in the morning trying not to wake my friend but being so excited that I had done it. This feeling was incredible. My whole family was behind me every step of the way as I learned how to build up my confidence again. My friends knew what I was going through and they too helped me in any way they could.

This event changed my families and many of the closest people around us lives. It showed us that loving and supporting each other is extremely important and kept the true meaning of family in mind. To this day I sleep with her blanket next to me remembering her each and every night.