Haley Jones was in a good place. Well, actually, she was in considerably bad place – a nineteen-year-old girl in wrong part of town and alone at night. But she was slightly intoxicated after a few drinks, so mentally she was in a good place, even if that only worsened her physical situation. She had just gotten out of one of the bars she snuck her way into with a friend – or boyfriend, or ********, or something along those lines – and was enjoying the night. The boy, Alex, had wandered off a few minutes ago to take a leak in one of the alleyways, but he hadn’t been back since. He probably stopped back in the bar for another drink, or met up with a friend.

It was getting pretty late, stretching past 2am. She had once been told that nothing good ever happens after 2am, but she firmly believed the opposite. That is, she believed that the best things in life happen between 2am and 4am, and the worst things happen between the hours of 9am to 5pm, when she is usually at work at the coffee shop.

However, as time passed, Haley started to grow a little concerned. It had been thirty minutes, and unless the boy was passing a kidney stone there was no reason for him to have to take this long of a piss break. She had sent him a simply “where r u?” text message but never received a response. Frustrated, she made her way back to the bar and approached the bouncer.

“Hey, have you seen the guy I was with earlier?” she asked. “He was about 6’2”, kind of scrawny, and had a smiley face tattoo on his a**?” The bouncer looked at her blankly. Her description was likely unhelpful. “Oh, and he had long shaggy reddish-brown hair, somewhat freckled face? He was wearing a dark Henley shirt, jeans and a hoodie?” The bouncer shrugged and said he hadn’t seen him. Disappointed, she turned the corner to peek into the alley – maybe he had just passed out?

Sure enough, lying behind a few trashcans she found Alex on the dirty floor. His pants were still half down and his junk was out, and he was lying in a puddle of his own urine. It was all rather gross. She tapped his knee with the tip of her foot, not wanting to step in the puddle. “Wake up, you drunk s**t.” He didn’t respond. “Goddamnit, don’t make me have to carry you.” She reached down and lightly slapped his cheeks to wake him up, but he was out ********,” she exhaled. She put two fingers at his neck and felt for a pulse. She didn’t feel any, but figured she was doing it wrong, so checked his wrist instead – still no pulse. “Oh, s**t. s**t, s**t, s**t, s**t. HELP! HELP!” A few bar-goers and the bouncer peered around the corner, and when they saw her crouched next to a still body, the bouncer and a few others rushed over to help.

Within the hour, the ambulance and the police were at the scene. She was questioned by the officers – how many drugs had he taken, how much did they drink, how did they get in the bar, what was their relationship. Although she had sobered up to the reality of the situation, it was all way too many questions and way too dark of a situation for her to deal with. They didn’t seem to be accusing her of anything, only asking her questions as a witness. She knew that there were a lot of disappearances and mysterious deaths in the city, but she had never suspected it would happen to someone she knew.

She wasn’t particularly close with him – sure, they fooled around, but that didn’t mean much – but the situation didn’t bother her any less. The police escorted her home after lecturing her rather extensively about the dangers of underage drinking and yadda-yadda, but let her slide on it after she reluctantly gave them her contact information. She didn’t exactly trust the police, but she wanted to help out in any way she could to find answers for Alex’s death.

She spent the rest of the night recapping the night with her parents, crying in their arms and then crying herself alone to sleep that night. She promised herself that night that she would find answers for Alex’s death and make an effort for there to be peace in this mysterious city once again.