Lost Memories

By M. E. Farruggia

Six years ago, officials from the Child Protective Agency removed Dakota Sky Basilla from her alcoholic fathers home, and she became a ward of the county. Dakotas one wish is to see her mother, Marta, again. But for now, she lives with her sixth set of foster parents while attending yet another high school.

Things in Dakotas life begin to spin even more out of control when she receives a wooden angel as a gift for her sixteenth birthdayand the angel comes to life. Dakota is beginning to think shes lost her mind. Even worse, her best friend, Lauren, goes missing. Dakota must now rely on her psychic ability, the guidance of her uncooperative angel, and the visions she experiences to solve the mystery and find Lauren.

As the days pass and the dead bodies pile up, Dakota becomes more frantic to find her friend. When she walks into a criminals trap in the course of her search, it will take all of her ingenuity to save herself and her friends. In the process, she may discover what loss really means.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abbott Press
• Release date: Dec 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781458212467

M. E. Farruggia

M. E. Farruggia earned a master’s degree in communications and works as a tutor. She published a story in Hapless Halloween and A Handful of Halloween: Twenty-Seven Tales of Terror and Suspense, two anthologies of Halloween stories. She currently lives in Rochester, New York.

Book preview

ONE

THE MEETING

It took only a brief moment for Dakota to acknowledge that being sixteen meant nothing more than being older and just as confused. She arrived, but what did that mean? What was her destination? Now that she got here, what would come next? How would she make sense of it all, especially when it came to her past? Many referred to it as Sweet Sixteen. Now that she experienced it firsthand, her new age didn’t impress her.

Most of her younger years seemed a blur, and now this period in her life felt no different. Daily living left a bitter taste in her mouth, and reaching another year of existence meant only that she had aged. She yearned to relish a sweet future, but she doubted that her life would ever know the taste.

Baffled by her profound thoughts, Dakota readied herself for school. She had three tests today and didn’t prepare to take any of them. Pointless, she thought, as she threw on her purple parka, grabbed her purple psychedelic backpack, and ran out the door. As she boarded the school bus, it occurred to her that it was in fact her birthday, and she should make the most of it. Despite her negative feelings, she put on her best face and headed for the back of the bus, where she began her morning’s greetings.

Hey, Lauren, What’s ‘sup? Do you have your research done for the history project?

Hardly, birthday girl, Lauren replied. What plans do you have to celebrate?

I’m out to dinner with the Parries when they return from their trip.

What about you? Are you finished with your report?

My project—I suppose I will start it one of these days, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe never.

"It’s due Monday, Sky D."

Whatever. Lauren, I know but I just don’t care.

What Native American tribe did you choose to report on?

Nez Perce. I think Chief Joseph was a great man.

I’m into the Apaches. They were some wild dudes, especially Geronimo, Lauren said.

Dakota leaned back and sat quietly listening to her music. Soon the bus would stop to pick up her friend, Jesse Rose. Thinking about him reminded her of the nightmare she had during the night—the one in which Jesse and she found a body of a dead teen lying faced down on a mat. This had not been the first night the vision interrupted her sleep, but she hoped it would be her last. She hated waking up screaming and wishing she understood the messages the dreams conveyed. She hoped Jesse was okay and the dream wasn’t a warning of something nasty he and she might eventually experience.

Jesse’s house was the bus’s last stop on the trip before reaching senior high. He rarely attended on Fridays, and she waited anxiously until the following Tuesday to see him again. She never asked her buddy why he barely made it to school three days out of the week. Something prevented him from coming, but she questioned whether she should press him to explain. It really was none of her business. Once again the bus slowed down and continued on when Jesse failed to appear at the end of his driveway.

The ride proved uneventful. Since school began the first week in September, Dakota had traveled on three different buses. Along with the new school, she bounced from one vehicle to another before school officials finally determined the correct one for her to ride. The last choice made her very happy because that meant that she rode with two of her dearest friends, Jesse and Lauren.

A few days before the beginning of this school year, her new foster parents registered her in her present senior high. Dakota adjusted to a new home and a different set of foster parents every September. Accustomed to the drill, she began packing in late July. By the beginning of August, she learned her fate, and sometime afterwards, the move occurred.

Six years ago Child Protective Agency’s officials removed Dakota from her alcoholic father’s home, and she became a ward of the county. Her mom disappeared with Mark, the upstairs’ tenant, seven years ago, and a year later, her dad died in a car wreck. A month before the tragedy, authorities of the agency investigated her situation and determined that she didn’t live in a safe environment. At that time, they attempted to locate Marta, Dakota’s mom, but they failed to find either Mark or her.

Prior to their disappearance, Dakota often saw her mother hanging with Mark. When he didn’t perform work for Dakota’s dad’s construction company, Mark labored around her family’s home, making needed electrical repairs and updates. She had no idea that her mom and he had become intimately involved.

Despite feeling abandoned and saddened by the situation, she insisted daily to anyone who would listen that her mom would come for her some day, and this would become the last foster home she would have to live in. Mothers don’t leave their children, especially those who were as loving, as understanding, and as tolerant as Dakota’s mom was. All those foster parents would see, or would they? I really don’t know anymore.

Doubt frequently popped into her thoughts when she reflected on the possibilities of ever seeing her mom again. Considering the track records of adults she had encountered in her life, she lacked trust in any of them. Time became the key factor. Dakota understood time and knew what an enemy it could be. Time gave ifs another meaning. As the clock ticked and the days passed, time became a bigger threat to her dream of a blissful reunion with the only one Dakota had ever loved.

Lauren suffered a similar fate. Dakota and she became acquainted in the foster care system when Lauren’s grandmother died. Lauren lost her mom when she was murdered by an intruder five years ago. Lauren didn’t know the identity of her dad, nor for that matter, neither did her mom. Or at least, that’s what Lauren told Dakota that her mom had told her. Lauren’s mom worked as a prostitute, and she repeatedly chuckled to her that the only benefit she had earned from her profession was Lauren’s love.

The evening of the attack, Lauren was visiting her grandmother. When she returned home with her, they found her mom stabbed to death. Following the tragedy, she moved in with her grandmother and lived with her until her grandmother died from lung cancer two years later. Dakota met Lauren when they both lived in the same foster home for awhile, and they became good friends. Both later relocated to different residences and lost contact with each other, reconnecting this past fall when they realized they both attended the same high school.

The bus pulled up to the entrance of the high school, and Dakota filed out with the others departing the bus. She gave Miss Bradley her automatic nod and managed to provide a half-hearted smile as she left.

MB, as all the passengers called her, did a good job of transporting her students. No one paid her much mind. She appeared to be a middle-aged woman who always wore shades and a baseball cap, making it hard to tell her true age. No one seemed to know anything about her. Dakota heard that MB just started driving bus this year.

In these last few months, Dakota never remembered hearing MB issue a sound. She never spoke, only nodded to her children, as they boarded at each stop, and she repeated the same behavior when she returned them to their homes after the school day. If a disturbance occurred on the bus, MB pulled over and hovered over the students until calm returned. She then would return to her seat and continue on the road, only to repeat the same behavior if her first attempt fell short of ending the disruption.

Ms. Fault buzzed around in her usual manic way, as she did every day upon the arrival of her adorable homeroom children. At least, that was what she called them. No one believed a word she said but placated her anyway. She did manage to let her darlings know that if she could find a way to retire, she would walk out the door without hesitating and would never look back.

Dakota admired her homeroom teacher who she secretly referred to as Madge the Midget. Ms. Fault resembled a mythical character whose voice thundered when provoked like the gods and goddesses of old, but whose tiny frame revealed a frail, yet warmly-complicated creature. This middle-aged woman had white, shiny, shoulder-length hair, which draped her face and accented her emerald-green eyes. As she stared at the green-eyed goddess strutting her way in front of the classroom, Dakota wondered what the teacher must think. She envisioned this woman as a towering powerhouse of wisdom reaching for her lightning bolt to electrify her students, holding the key to setting the tone for her students’ day. Dakota often pondered whether Madge had a clue, as she perched down from her pedestal, that despite her four-foot, eleven-inch frame, she swept over subjects with irrefutable force.

Slowly and eloquently, Amanda Sawyer strolled in the door. Every movement she made with her willowy six-foot frame resembled a smooth choreographic ballet dance. Her wavy honey-blond hair dropped perfectly down the middle of her back. Her locks resembled a thick horse mane crowning a stunning pageant queen. Her oval-shaped sky-blue eyes twinkled with delight as she exposed a jubilant smile. Her sunny disposition infected and never ceased to thrill the hordes of male students who followed her from class to class.

Amanda provided a breath of fresh air in this crazy world Dakota lived in. She acted as the only self-assured person her age that that Dakota had ever encountered. She became one of her best friends and one of her closest confidantes, making the introduction to high school less traumatic than other experiences she encountered in other schools. Amanda reassured her that any friend of Dakota’s automatically joined her circle of friends, graciously extended herself to both Jesse and Lauren.

Hi, birthday girl! Amanda screamed as she raced into the room. I have it all under control, she said, as she pulled Dakota from her seat. Since the homeroom bell hadn’t sounded, Dakota went with her.

What’s going on?

You’ll see, Amanda said as she dragged Dakota into the hall.

Amanda had arranged for a handful of her most ardent followers to surprise Dakota with an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday. Aside from Amanda and Lauren, Dakota recognized only a very few of the other participants in the sing-a-long. She recalled seeing most of those in the group trail alongside Amanda, but she didn’t know any of their names. She thanked them and watched as the crowd dispersed, spotting Jesse standing in the corner behind the rest of the gathering. He made it to school today after all. Dakota clapped and jumped when she saw him. Yesterday, she told him about her birthday, and encouraged him to come to school to help her celebrate the occasion.

I’ll be here, he said. You can count on me.

When the bus didn’t pick him up this morning, Dakota convinced herself that he wouldn’t come to school, and she pouted all the way to her homeroom, feeling letdown. But to her delight, he kept his promise. Seeing him in the crowd standing before her thrilled her.

Jesse gave Dakota a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and handed her a handmade, notebook-paper-sized, cardboard card decorated with fashion ads from teen magazines. Dakota suspected Amanda’s handiwork. That girl read all the latest issues of every teen magazine she could get her hands on and ripped out pages for arrangement on whatever piece of cardboard or flat surface she could find. Everyone knew, if a visual project was assigned, Amanda was the gal to see. She came equipped with scissors, paste, and folders filled with magazine pictures on every subject imaginable. She knew that Dakota liked geometric art, especially art deco, so Amanda created a collage with geometric forms typical of that art form. And Dakota appreciated her effort and the artful piece Amanda created.

Thank you for the present and for coming to school. I’ll read the notes on the inside later.

The bell sounded, and Dakota smiled at Jesse as they both hurried to get back to their homerooms. Before she made her way back into the classroom, Dakota placed a large wet kiss on his cheek. Throughout the day, whenever she encountered him, she expressed words of appreciation for his making her birthday special. He nodded to her and then scurried off to his classes, his cheeks growing in color. Being sixteen still seemed no different to her, but at least she had Amanda, Lauren, and Jesse to help with the experience.

Mr. Love’s music class failed to inspire her. Along with her fellow classmates, she suffered acute boredom in his class. Mr. Love played the classics and generally started the morning with what the class referred to as elevator music. His selections resulted in sleep time for most of the eleventh-grade class. She preferred any other music to the selections he chose. She loved all types, especially jazz, Latin, country, alternative, and hip hop, but not any of the recordings he continually played. The course was required for graduation so she endured the wearisome selections. That never stopped her from suggesting that he consider playing something more complex and stirring for his class. He always heard her out and then continued presenting the same awful material.

Since the class took place first period in the morning, all her classmates used the opportunity for a quick nap before the school day really got going. Dakota spent the period daydreaming, grateful the class finished after winter break. The time usually dragged, but today, before she knew it, the bell sounded, and she hurried off to her next class.

English class was next. Ms. Fault decided to discuss the value and usage of verbs in the English language, especially their role in creating powerful prose. Action, she bellowed to her uninspired class. The only action Dakota saw took place in the back left-hand corner of the room. Ronnie and Pete started arguing over the use of a calculator. Ronnie took Pete’s calculator to finish his Intermediate Algebra homework, and Pete wanted it back, intending to use it for that exact same purpose. A scuffle soon resulted, and the two boys wrestled with each other over its possession.

These antics annoyed Ms. Fault. She maintained that Language Arts took precedent over any other academic subject. To engage in any pursuit other than giving Queen Fault their undivided attention resulted in detention at the very least or a call to parents at the very most. Today, it appeared that Ms. Fault would consider both recourses. The boys had pushed her buttons too many times this week for her to let this incident go without some dire consequences.

Dakota held a soft spot in her heart for both of them. She could always count on them to lighten things up and make her laugh sometime during the school day. She didn’t know them very well, but she did admire their ingenious activities. She sometimes wished that she could be a little more rebellious.

Although she often put on an air of not caring, Dakota had high grades and made the honor roll all of her elementary years. Once she started high school, she resisted applying herself, but she still managed to earn high standings every semester. Since her latest foster parent placement and her move to this new school, she had lost interest in her academic studies, in her life, and in the future. Generally speaking, she could care less about anything, and scholastic achievement ranked at the bottom of the list. At least, that’s what she attempted to convince her peers and herself. Despite doing very little in the way of school work, she still managed to complete her assignments and brush through her classes.

Ronnie’s and Pete’s interactions sent Ms. Fault into one of her tirades. Madge in tirade mode was not a pleasant event. Her loud roars disrupted any attempt Dakota made to go to fantasyland and to reside there during the disruption. She wanted to disappear from this classroom and to avoid all the noise and the chaos, which now occurred. Ronnie and Pete raced around the room, Ms. Fault summoned security, and by the time they arrived, the period had ended, the verbs were left in peace, the boys had a date with the principal, and Dakota escaped to her next class.

She breezed through her Spanish quiz and spent the rest of the period engrossed in a juicy love scene between Louisa and Miguel, reading from the novella concealed in her Spanish textbook. Although it was acceptable to read once a quiz was handed in, Dakota hid her Spanish love story from her fellow classmates, avoiding letting them see her engaged in reading foreign print. She loved reading and especially enjoyed challenging herself to read in other languages, but she didn’t want her peers to know what unique abilities she had. The less they knew about her, the easier it would be for her to adjust to her surroundings, and the less stress she would feel. Keeping this secret made her feel secure. The more she could withhold, the better her life at this school would become.

As a child, Dakota played with her next door neighbor’s daughter and learned many words from her Hispanic friend. Alicia shared several of her books with Dakota who learned to read simple Spanish children’s books. When Dakota’s dad died and the construction company sold, Alicia’s family moved away. The new owners eliminated Alicia’s dad’s position, so he had to find new work in a new construction company. His new place of employment took his family out of the area, and Dakota lost contact with her best friend.

The last time she ever saw or heard from Alicia occurred the day before they left town. She continued to read those Spanish books and that kept Alicia close to her heart. She hoped one day that she would reconnect with her childhood friend. But until then, she’d have to be satisfied with the fictional Hispanic characters.

As the lovers began to embrace, the bell rang, and Dakota abruptly returned to the world of student. She grabbed her possessions and raced out the door, colliding with Amanda.

I’m starving.

I hear you, Amanda said. One more period, that’s all. Meet me in the cafeteria near my table. No hanging in the art room today. Promise?

I promise, Dakota said as she headed off to math class.

As she climbed the stairs to retrieve her math book, she suddenly experienced one of her sudden throbbing headaches. These strange sensations that followed the pain she knew quite well and actively worked at ignoring. Following the episode, she’d witness a vision, which she tried to dismiss but which would not leave her until she did something about it. Dakota felt burdened by what she saw and wished these premonitions would leave her. Acting on them led to difficulties she would rather avoid, but ignoring them resulted in more intense pain for her. She had to follow through if she wanted the headache to go away. Taking a deep breath, she sighed, turned around, scurried down the stairs, stopping four steps from the bottom, spun around, and propped herself in front of Cherrie who sprinted down that flight of stairs.

Hi, Cherrie, Dakota shrieked as she fought to catch her breath. I love your sweater. Blue is one of my favorite colors.

Dakota had lied. Her favorite colors consisted of red and yellow. But she wanted Cherrie to move around her, so she thought up that response to get Cherrie to do just that.

When she saw her, Cherrie rolled her eyes. Cherrie considered Dakota a nuisance, and Dakota knew it. Nevertheless, she successfully prevented Cherrie from heading straight down the staircase. Cherrie went around her, and when she was out of sight, Dakota looked down to where she envisioned a tubular pipe on the step. In her vision, she watched Cherrie step on the pipe and fall to the bottom of the staircase. When she looked for the pipe, nothing rested on the landing. No danger or obstacle to cause the accident existed.

Dakota shook her head, perplexed and late for class. The vision made no sense, but she did experience relief from the headache. No one was hurt, her headache was gone, and she would have to rush to finish her math test.

She arrived ten minutes late for class. Mr. Archer had zero tolerance for those who didn’t show up on time for class, especially those students who didn’t have a pass. Dakota had received six passes for perfect attendance, two per month and placed one in his hand as soon as she walked in the door.

Sorry, Mr. Archer, she said.

Sit down and start your test, he growled.

Mr. Archer liked to growl. Actually growling became a perfect equation for him, and he had the formula down pat. Although she admitted that math featured low on her list of favorite subjects, Mr. Archer taught the subject well. He made math at least tolerable. Despite his phenomenal teaching ability, she preferred Language Arts and history to math. Exponents, components, she mumbled to herself. It’s all nonsense to me. She finished the test before the bell rang and eagerly departed the room.

She went to meet Amanda. As she headed to the cafeteria, she wondered what the girl planned. Anything could happen at one of Amanda’s events, but one thing Dakota did know, if it included Amanda, you better show up on time. She enjoyed the attention that orchestrating a party gave her, and she would only become frustrated if she had to wait one second more than she thought necessary.

Amanda loved the spotlight. As one of her festivities took place, she already was cooking up another. It never occurred to her to consider what her peers thought of her. If someone new arrived at school, Amanda became the first to extend a welcome. Dakota heard that she did it over and over again. She recalled the first day when within minutes of her entering homeroom, the prettiest girl that Dakota had ever seen approached her and plopped herself in the desk next to hers.

Hey there, she said. I am Amanda Sawyer. Welcome to high school. I’m sure we’re gonna be great friends. What’s your name?

"Dakota Sky Basilla. My friends call me Sky D."

Good friends, yes, Dakota Sky Basil, that’s for sure. And with that pronouncement, Amanda left and returned to her seat next to her male friends.

Basilla, Dakota repeated.

Yes, Basil, Amanda called back.

Dakota decided not to try again. She resigned herself that she may always have to be Basil for Amanda.

Amanda kept her word. She became Dakota’s friend and champion. Dakota realized that not all the girls or boys at the school shared Amanda’s sentiments. After her first week of school, she ran into trouble with Cherrie and her followers. She realized that she would have to keep a low profile if she intended to survive at this school. Since Cherrie seemed to hate everyone, especially bi-racial students, it might become impossible. Lauren had a Caucasian mother and a black father, and she was Lauren’s best friend, which made Dakota one of Cherrie’s least favorite people. Cherrie and her best friend, Shana, made their dislike of Lauren known to Dakota. They cornered her on her way out of the locker room after gym.

Hey, little Ms. Prissy, Shana shouted as she pushed Dakota into the gym locker door, attempting to push her back into the room. Still hanging around that Lauren, aren’t you? We don’t like no half-breeds. We got no use for them nor for that matter, you.

Dakota tried not to mess her pants. She felt her eyes grow large and a heavy tightness grip her chest. Her hands perspired and her knees buckled as though they would give way any minute. She remembered standing perfectly still, unable to speak a word. Anthony, Shana’s boyfriend, pulled out a small penknife and placed it underneath her neck.

Terrified, I’m terrified, Dakota said in a soft and trembling voice.

Not the best thing to say. And she wondered why she had echoed those words and not belted a cry of desperation. The gang didn’t seem to show any compassion, and she didn’t know what to do. She listened for someone else in the vicinity of the room. If someone came by and saw her dilemma, they’d run and get her help. Just as she abandoned hope of a rescue, Amanda strolled around the corner with the high school football team. When the team entered the area, Cherrie and her gang dispersed. As she departed, Cherrie said, We’ll deal with you later.

Amanda and Cherrie smiled at each other as the girl and her gang left the area. Dakota found it odd that Cherrie and Amanda responded so friendly to each other, but she said nothing to Amanda about it immediately. She briefly spoke to her about the incident later but never found out how Amanda knew that she needed her. And Amanda never provided an answer to her inquiry—changed the subject, smiled, or left the area. From that day on, Dakota made it a point to know where Amanda hung at all times during the school day, in case she faced another encounter with Cherrie. She didn’t worry about that today, endeavoring only to enjoy the birthday celebration that Amanda prepared for her.

The sights and smells of the lunchroom provided a welcome change to a very tiresome morning. As she approached the elaborately decorated lunch table, a small, slightly visible smile began to form on her face. Amanda covered the table with a glossy, yellow, paper tablecloth decorated with cartoon figures. Each illustration featured a caption with a greeting from the