I pulled up the folder I had made on my computer, with all of the leads I had found on my mother’s disappearance; which wasn’t many. If there was anything that my mother was defined by, it was her ability to stay hidden. That was until the article was leaked on her and her new family… My family.
Riffling through my collection, I flicked through the multitudes of documents I can collated. Many leads on my mother had appeared, yet none came to fruition. How had I missed the blatantly obvious article that was shown in my criminology class? Never had I imagined that the case of my missing mother could take such a sinister turn. Was she evil? Had my father painted her as a saint, when in fact she was the opposite? Did the evil run in the gene pool, or had she somehow picked it up along the way? Perhaps, the trauma of leaving her new baby and her family behind had messed with her head. The thoughts kept running through my mind as I clicked through article after article on this ‘Santa’ character. The tales of his victims getting more gruesome by the page… Unfortunately, there was not anything else to be found on my mother, besides that one article. It seemed as though she had done a good job of keeping herself hidden.
Though, being a criminology and forensics major, I had my connections when it came to forensics; for example, my lecturer. I sent the article, as well as some possessions of my mothers that my father had saved for me in a keepsake box, such as one of her shirts, which upon inspection, I noticed that it had a few strands of hair on it. Hair that did not resemble my own or my fathers… could it be my mothers? Beyond excited at the possibility, I carefully removed the hair and placed it into a zip lock bag. It was a long shot, but worth a try.
I got up my university website, looking for my teacher’s contact. I found an email and a phone number listed under his name. I checked the time. Eight pm. I thought it an appropriate time to call. I listened as the phone rang three times before he picked it up, “Hello?” he answered…
“Hi, this is Silas Walker, I am in your forensics class,” I uttered into the phone, suddenly nervous about the information I was going to request…What if I found my mother? What would I do then?
“Hi mate, what can I help you with?” His reply echoed through the bad line.
“Uh, I was hoping you could give me the number of the guest lecturer we had last class? you know, the forensics guy? I was hoping to uh, track down my mother.” I almost pleaded.
“Hmm, I can’t just give out people’s numbers. You know, privacy and all that?” He sounded as though he were contemplating the idea of handing over the number.”
“And I respect that, I do. But I have some evidence I have that I really think could lead to finding my mother.” I was pleading now…
“Let me think about it. I will call you back in the morning okay?” he stated, hanging up the phone.
That’s good enough for me, I thought, as I compiled all the evidence.
A few days later I had submitted the evidence to Howard after my professor decided to pass on his information. When I received a phone call from him shortly after that, confirming what I already suspected, my mother's DNA matched that of a crime lord. One that had committed murders, amongst other crimes that I couldn’t even begin to accept, came from my DNA. He was able to track the crimes to an address, where my mother had resided after the infamous murder of ‘Santa’. With that little shred of hope and nothing to lose, I packed my bags and prepared my journey to Antarctica.
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