BANG OUT

I have Sarah Mertleton.

This was posted March 17th next to her Thumbnail, a close-up picture of her smiling. She was pretty in a common way. We actually looked a lot alike.

When I first saw this on her wall, I didn’t think anything of it. Most people change their status updates constantly. Carrie Bendroit commented, “you cant have her shes already mine lol!!” Norah Mertleton wrote, “Hello Sarah, What does this mean? Love, Aunt Norah.” A few people “liked” the comment, which showed up as a thumbs up.

Shortly after this post, all of her pictures, including her profile picture and photo album, were deleted. All that remained was the blue question mark Facebook uses when there is no profile picture. When her pictures were populated again, it was with a series of 33 black and white photos of Sarah. One was a picture of Sarah sitting inside Starbucks Coffee. Another was of Sarah laughing, head tilted back. One was of Sarah walking down the street, back to camera. One was Sarah making breakfast. One of her brushing her teeth. The last was of Sarah sleeping.

I clicked through every picture. Something didn’t feel right. Was this art? A commentary on stalking? Perhaps she was comparing this online social networking with the old school style of stalking? But, it seemed so unlike her. She looked too unaware in the pictures.

It wasn’t until her Facebook photo was updated that the situation became clear. Sarah was in a bra, jeans, gagged, stomach on cement floor, the shadows not quite hiding the wide eyes and gash on her forehead, her arms and legs tied together like a pig to slaughter.

The people that Liked the earlier comment Unliked it. Some of the people that commented went back and deleted them. Norah Mertleton commented that she should call her immediately. Mike Comers merely wrote “WTF?!” There was a cascade of written concern from far away keyboards.

But people were still uncertain. Maybe this was a stunt. People probably tried calling, but out of her 441 friends, how many had her number? I didn’t. So I watched. From a safe distance. Then the picture was flagged. In it’s place remained the large blue question mark.

I ventured on to our to 23 mutual friends’ pages and looked through their Recent Activity. None mentioned Sarah. If she had failed to return texts or e-mails or voicemails, I was unsure. Her page was inactive for two days. On March 19th there was another post.

You can’t delete the truth.

No one Liked this post. I didn’t understand it. What the truth meant. People’s comment were more frantic, confused. One said, “Sarah, this is not funny anymore. Please call me immediately.” Another said, “You’re scaring us.”

Sarah Mertleton updated her picture on March 21st. Her light brown hair was matted with a deep, crusty red. Small cuts, blues and browns lined her forehead, her cheekbones, teeth were missing. Her one eye was shut. Her lips were parted due to swelling.

It was removed almost immediately. The large blue question mark remained. No one dared to write on her wall. But activity started. A group was formed called “What Happened to Sarah!?” Her mom commented: “We are working with the police department and remain hopeful that Sarah will come back to us. We have asked that Sarah’s page remain up as this is our only communication with her attacker. Thank you for your continued support.”

People commented on the group page. Mike Comers wrote, “What a sicko!” Carrie Bendroit wrote, “Sarah, we love you. Come back to us!” Melissa Smith wrote, “Stay strong Sarah and the Mertleton family.”

Then, Sarah Mertleton joined the group on the March 23rd. Sarah Mertleton wrote, “This is cute. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you updated on what happened to Sarah.” The group was deleted from the Facebook community.

Her family posted on Sarah’s page on March 24th. They tagged her in a family Christmas picture and posted it on her wall. Everyone tagged in the picture commented. Her brother said, “That Christmas we built a snowman family. You did snow angels and we had a crazy snowball fight. Next Christmas, we’ll build an even better snowman.”

That same day, Sarah Mertleton commented, “It will be hard for Sarah to build anything in the condition she is in” punctuating it with a smiley face. No one commented back.

Why couldn’t they find her? Couldn’t they just trace the IP address? Find out what computer he was using? Couldn’t they analyze the pictures, and trace them to her? Do all the CSI stuff you see on TV?

The waiting, the watching became obsessive. I texted constantly with mutual friends. We were all relieved she didn’t have a blog. We didn’t want to know what sort of twisted games would have been played within that forum. I wondered how many people were watching.

On March 25th at 9 pm, nine days since the first posting, Sarah Mertleton’s profile picture changed and a new post appeared.

The picture looked like abstract art at first. Then I realized it was her back. Skin ruptured exposing tissue, blood, bone. Deep bruises and newly formed ones scattered the surface in a brilliant array of color. Her intestine crisscrossed in random patterns around her back. Cut between her shoulders was a smiley face. The post said, “This has been fun. I’ll have to do it again sometime.”

Messages flooded Sarah’s wall. Carrie Bendroit wrote, “You will be remembered for everything you did and not what happened to you.” Mike Comers wrote, “I hope they fry that bastard!” I wrote nothing. What do you say to a dead friend within the purview of her killer?

Her account was closed soon after. She was removed from the Facebook community.

I still find myself typing her name in Search.




Copyright © 2011, Ashley Brim