DISCLAIMER: This story deals with abuse and loss and coarse language. It is intended for MATURE AUDIENCES. There is also occasional drinking and smoking. All characters are 21 or older. Happy reading :)

"Sometimes things happen for a reason."  I have been told that my whole life but I still do not really know if I truly believe that sentiment.

Sirens blaring and lights flashing woke me up from my sleep.  The smell of smoke lingered in the air. It was dark and hot.  My room lit up with blue and red flashing lights. In the distance I could hear shouting and crying.  What on earth is going on?  I thought to myself.  What could be causing all this commotion?  I slowly walked over to my window and peered out.  Three cop cars and a handful of fire trucks and ambulances were blocking off the whole neighborhood.  I lived at the end of a dead end street. I liked my little seclusion.  It kept people away from me, I hated having to deal with my neighbors.  At my old place they alway bothered me and asked me what I was doing and disturbed my peace with their loud parties.  It has been hot and muggy lately. I wonder if someone had a bonfire that went wild.  I decided to put on some light clothes and venture closer to see what was going on.

As I walked down the street closer to the scene the smell of gasoline and burnt stuff got worse.  One of the smells was rancid but very familiar.  I couldn't quite pinpoint where I have smelt it before though. I approached a younger man, maybe in his twenties. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks and sounded like he smoked a few packs a day. “Hey man,” I asked him, nudging his arm with my elbow, “y’know what happened ‘round eere?” He turned toward me and looked at me without emotion or blinking “dunno man I hear some man came round and killed the girl that lived in this house and lit it ablaze. But that's just rumors. The cops ain't sayin’ much about anything that is goin’ on when I asked em. Maybe if ye asked em you could get something outta them since you’re new round here.” he pointed vaguely at a man in his forties leaning on an old police vehical with a notepad out writing vigorously.  Hmmm not sure about this one. He seems rather preoccupied. “I don't know man. Maybe I will ask some of the others around as he seems to be rather busy writing stuff down, dontcha think?” He nodded his head slowly and turned towards an older man, maybe in his late seventies wearing boxers and a torn up “white” tee shirt. “He has lived here for about 50 years so he knows everyone and normally knows what is going on in this neighborhood. I've only lived here round a year or so m’self.” I nodded at him and watched him as he sluggishly walked back to the house right near mine. 

I walked over to the older man. He nodded at me and stepped toward me to close the distance. “Hey neighbor, names Corey. Do you happen to know what's going on around here?” I asked. 

“Well, Corey, peers to be some sort of fire dontcha think.” He chuckled to himself and scratched his beard. I let out a small sigh “nah I'm just kiddin ye. Of course there was a fire here. Unfortunately Miss Abigale was killed in this here fire but I don't understand why that would ever happen. She was such a smart and cautious girl that she would never risk anything like this happening. I figure someone set her house on fire as she slept. I am not sure though and none of these cops eere wanna tell me anything. They’ve never been so tight lipped bout nottin goin on in this county till now an I lived here longer than most of em been alive.” He stared at the officer with a dirty look and scuffed his foot around in the dirt. “Wonderin if something real crazy is going on.”