say a prayer

I want to vomit with horror this morning. Since last night, helicopters have been hovering low and circling my neighborhood searching for a 7-year old girl who went missing from the apartment complex across the street yesterday. Out my bedroom window I just watched volunteers and police search dumpsters and crawlspaces outside the buildings behind my house. One policeman was stomping the ground in the alleyway where the old train tracks lie, like he was checking to see if the dirt had been freshly upturned and was covering something. I want to say I'm hopeful, but I'd be lying.

Update: This was the heartbreaking outcome, for the non-locals or non-news watchers. The stupid thing is we used to always joke about that apartment complex being shady; it's called South Parc, and you know there's something questionable about a place that's spelled like that (speaking of misspelling). The complex houses many refugees from various countries, and the low-income community has always seemed a bit of a contrast from the gated lane of new condos across the street where I live. Friends have asked if it's safe to park on the street, which we assure them it is, though I admittedly only ever park on my side of the street and not the South Parc side. This was a little more superstitious than out of actual fear. I have always felt comfortable in this neighborhood, but now I might not be able to help but wonder, when I see people out and about on that street, whether they are the kind of people who could also murder. I'm sorry to be so morbid. ' partly the crazy emotions from watching this all play out, and partly my psychologist mind prone to think about the darker side of human nature. If I've ever asked you what it would take for you to kill someone, you know what I mean. Anyway. Praying for the family.