• Detective Barnabus Gurns sighed as he approached the private section of the city graveyard. Teenage Jane Doe, found by the night guard, she was a suposed suicide. It seemed that the victims were getting younger and younger every crime scene. Just last week he'd had three fourteen year old girls who had been gang raped, mutilated and then murdered by the leaders of a notorius street gang.

    Shaking his head a little, the seasoned detective braced himself for another death scene. As he aproached the harsh glare of the lights used for nighttime scenes Barny noticed that there was only four people on sight, the M.E and three C.S.I techs. He ducked under the yellow tape and then straightened, at first all he did was look around.

    At first all he saw was the girl, a grubby little thing with long red hair and staring eyes. She was slumped against a gravestone, her wrists slashed open and the wounds had at one point oozed blood but now it was mearly caked on the her arms, wrists, and hands as well as splattered on the grass around her. In her lap, also blood caked, was a razor blade. Leaning against the gravestone was a notebook, open to what he presumed was a suicide note.


    The aging man slipped on a pair of latex gloves and reached down to pick up the book. Written across the page in a almost illegibal scrawl was the following:


    Long be gone
    she who I love most
    Lost be she who there in
    lost her will to
    live and love as
    she would love
    only me,
    lost be she who
    payed love's
    great price
    lost be she who
    long love
    only me
    and not
    another
    Long be gone
    those who love
    her most
    Long be gone those who
    lost the will to be free
    Lost be
    ME


    Barnabus put down the notebook and began to study the rest of the crime scene. At the back of the tomb stone was a black rucksack, left open. He reached in and pulled out the girl's wallet, a beaten and worn black leather fold out. He flipped through it, finding a YMCA card and a library card from just about every public library in the city. He selected the card from the Y and looked at the information. Jeri Riling was this poor girl's name she was only sixteen. He returned the card to the wallet and began to tear through the rest of the rucksack, looking for an address or a phone number. All he found a list of addresses for soup kitchens and a homeless center for gays.

    He replaced all the items to the rucksack and rounded to the front of the grave stone, he peered at the name of the deceaded that was so loved by poor Jeri. Liva Westen, he'd read all about her suicide in the paper just a few days ago, her family was loaded and she was was the envy of every kid in town. Why was she the object of affection for a homeless nobody?

    Sighing softly Barny snapped a quick polariod of the dead girl and then ducked out of the tape and returned to his cruiser to go inform the friends of the dead girl that she would not be coming back.