No one is going to take him away from me…
I’m scrolling through the rest of the article, ready to back out with a newfound peace of mind, when I see a link from the Harriston Daily, the neighboring town’s newspaper, at the bottom of the report.
With a shaky hand, I select it and feel my life shattering to pieces as I devour the document released two days ago.
“The Harriston County coroner’s office has identified two men who were found dead the morning of Thursday, March 11th, in an apparent murder-suicide at the home of Augustus residents Oscar Fallon and James Caroll.
The coroner's office said that James Caroll, forty-five, was shot and killed by roommate, forty-six-year-old Oscar Fallon, at the Sunday Valley apartment complex, on 2715 East Jackson Road.
James Caroll’s death was ruled a homicide due to a gunshot wound to the frontal part of the head.
The coroner's office announced that Oscar Fallon’s death was ruled a suicide due to a gunshot wound to the mouth, with other significant conditions of sharp force injuries to the upper extremities.
This all comes days after police reported to a call coming from the apartment complex, with neighbors complaining of loud music and the overwhelming scent of marijuana seeping into their unit from the apartment mentioned above.
During their search, police discovered numerous artifacts, including bloody clothing, instruments of torture, and obscene images and videos
that were not provided to us, linking them to a crime involving two other Augustus residents, Gabriel Lupo, forty-seven, and his son, Liam Lupo, twenty-one, who had perished in a house fire in early December of last year.”
Videos?
They have homemade movies showing what they did to me?
And this reporter… she saw me too…?
“The mystery of that fire remains unsolved, but from these images taken by authorities shown below and the evidence in both the Fallon and Lupo residence, it is clear that something sinister went on in this house.
Witnesses state there was a third member of the Lupo household, the daughter, eighteen-year-old Amira Lupo.
Residents of Augustus claim Amira was a homebody and was rarely seen in town unless to do some shopping at the local grocery store.
The whereabouts of Amira Lupo remain unknown. However, authorities affirmed they have not searched the entire property or underneath the rubble due to hazardous material, but assume she, along with her father and brother, perished in that fire.”
Some days I wish I had.
Tentatively, I navigate down, inhaling a painful breath as I lay my eyes on the damaging photos.
As I stare at the picture of my home burning to the ground, I can almost feel the blistering heat of the flames licking at my skin, grasping at the ends of my singed hair as we drove away from the scene.
I wonder how long after we left did authorities come and take this picture.
Were we close?
Could they have caught us?
Or were we far enough to outrun our crime?
The following photos are new to me.
The image of burnt slabs of wood crumbled to the ground as firefighters tried to put out the fire in the neighboring trees. Ash rains down in front of the lens, washing the fiery scene in horrific shades of grey.
The pictures continue until the flames are extinguished, and the only thing that remains is the rising smoke and scorched remains of my prison.
You can’t see much from these photos, but something catches my eye, chilling me down to the bone.
I expand the screen with my thumb and forefinger, zooming in on my metal bed frame that burned through the second story.
Tears fall from my eyes as I focus on the rusted shackles that are still attached to the legs of my bed, now lying in the open for numerous people to witness.
