The Corn Maiden

Jessica’s eyes blinked only once or twice and with her parched lips she was able to speak, to respond as they wanted her to respond, like being called upon in school when her thoughts were in pieces like a shattered mirror but she gave no sign, she had the power, you must tell adults only what they want you to tell them so they will love you.

“Why don’t they like me, Mommy?”

“Why do they make fun of me, Mommy?”

ost students were privileged, well-to-do. Very privileged

And she would walk with school friends. (Would she?)

“She isn’t the type of child to …”

They would accuse her. In the tabloids they would crucify her.

Dial 911 and your life is public fodder. Dial 911 and your life is not yours. Dial 911 and your life is forever changed.

Suburban Single Mom. Latchkey Daughter.

Eleven-Year-Old Missing, South Skatskill.

So quiet! The mother, beginning to shiver, understood why the daughter hated quiet.

“Marissa? Aren’t you … are you home?”

“Marissa? Are you hiding?”

Marissa was eleven years old. Marissa had not hidden from her mother to make Mommy seek her out giggling and squealing with excitement in a very long time.