The bright living room was filled was tiny chatter, ghostly whispers, as though no one really knew how to talk at an appropriate level. I glanced around the room, my eyes stopped on every guest and yet each one looked away when they caught my gaze. I closed my eyes for a brief moment and leaned back against the cool window, the cushions of the window seat I sat on shifted slightly as I did so. The incessant hum of helicopter wings filled my ears and I opened my eyes and turned my head to the side to peer outside.

Flash after flash blinded me as news vans and their occupants waited behind the barricade that police had set up earlier in the morning. I tilted my head up and leaned my temple against the glasses as I watched the lone helicopter hover in the sky above the Gains' home. This was supposed to be a sad day. A day for family and friends to mourn the lose of someone they cared for. But the people who waited just outside didn't care about our feelings or the death of another misunderstood human, they only cared about the next big story. And unfortunately, I was at the center of it.

I was the villain's girlfriend. I was the one who was in love with a killer. I didn't see him like that. Noah had always been a kind person and deep down I knew that opinion of him wouldn't change, but now after what happened I felt like I didn't know him as well as I had thought.

"I'm sorry for your loss." I was broken from my thoughts as an older man I didn't know spoke under his breath to me.

I nodded in response. "Thank you."

With nothing else to say the man moved on and again I sat alone on the window seat in the living room of my deceased boyfriend's parent's house. I felt my eyes start to involuntarily water as I watched Noah's mother cry silently into her husband's shoulder. Noah's older brother, Ethan, stood close by with his hand on her shoulder, a permanent frown and a look of exhaustion etched on his face. And for the first time that afternoon someone made eye contact with me.

Ethan and I didn't know each other well, but I knew him and Noah were very close growing up. Ethan's eyes said it all. He was crushed, confused and unable to understand why his little brother would have done something so horrible. Our silent conversation ended mutually as we both couldn't bear to look at the other because we were the two that were closest to him. It was hard to know that with all the questions I had been left with, there was no one here who could answer them.

. . . . .

There had been no indication that Noah was depressed or angry. The therapist that I had seen only once told me that sometimes there isn't. Sometimes a person can just have a sudden outburst. But I had seen him angry and I had seen how his mood would change some days. Maybe he had just been very good at hiding his true emotions. And still all the questions I had about my boyfriend were unanswered.

Days passed and then weeks. Even months later I would get calls in the middle of the night from strangers asking about how rough the sex was we had or if we had been apart of some terrorist cult. I couldn't take it. I was guilty by association and it felt like I was drowning.

After all the stares I got during classes and all the whispered conversations around campus that would stop abruptly whenever I walked by, I knew I wouldn't be able to stay. As much as I loved my college town - my hometown - I had to leave. Noah's actions had turned this place into a living hell for me and each day that went by I tried not to resent him for it.

"Please Kennedy, you don't have to go!" My mother cried as she stood in the doorway of my room.

"Yes, I do." I grabbed more clothes from my closet, folding them as best I could before I shoved them into the multiple suitcase laid out on my bed.

"It'll get better, you'll see." She tried to coax me by removing some items from one of the suitcases.

I yanked them from her hands, and let them fall back into the suitcase once again. "No, it won't! It will never change. And I can't stand all the glares and whispers. You don't understand what its like!"

"It wasn't your fault," She said quietly.

"I know that, okay?" I scoffed at her as I shut the lid to one of the suitcases and zipped it closed. "It's Noah's fault! I can't change what he did, but people don't seem to understand that. I still don't even understand what happened!"

Tears filled my eyes as I turned away from my mother. My shoulders shook, but I didn't let myself cry. I had cried too much already since the incident and it was time to toughen up.

"Where will you go?" My mother finally broke the silence that surrounded us. "And did you really have to cut your hair like that?"

I turned back to look at her, folding the last few items I had and closed my other suitcase. My fingers tugged lightly on the short strands that fell just below my ears, my once long dark hair now shaped into a boyish bob haircut. My appearance felt like the only thing I had control over these last few months so I felt as though a change on the outside may then spark a change on the inside.

"I'm not going far," I spoke as I thought about the perfect getaway, not even bothered by her question about my looks. "Just far enough so that the people in town won't know who I am."

My mother nodded reluctantly as she sat on the edge of my bed and clung to one of my favorite old sweatshirts. I knew she didn't understand why I had to leave right now, but I hoped eventually she might. And hopefully with the move maybe I'd be able to find some clarity as well.

I wouldn't go far, just far enough to find a quiet place where no one would ask questions.