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The Murder of My Neighbor

What if all of this (life) is just a test and right now half of us are passing and half of us are failing. The purpose of this test would be for the entire human race to get past superficial things like skin color and religion. When those of us pass we get to move on to the next level of spiritual enlightenment when we die, but when those of us fail we are doomed to this crisis existence on earth all over again, until one day it’s too late, and the promised one returns only for those ready for the next step of this journey.

Regardless if I’m looking toward Buddhism or Jesus Christ, the essence of death boggles my mind. I have no idea what happens next and so at night I often imagine where our souls go once they’ve departed. In actuality I hate death, and yet I know it comes for me, it comes for us all. In preparation for the unknown, I try to live a clean life, and I try to do no harm.

What does the Bible say, love thy neighbor? I want to practice that. Thou Shall Not Kill. My neighbor was killed last month. Her name was Alexis and she lived on the first floor of my apartment complex. She was a peppy lady, and a young mother of twin boys. I didn’t know her well, but she was really the only person I spoke to on my way to and from.

I knew her killer, and like her, not very well. Her killer, Darold, was a, I imagine, a troubled man and he used to stay in our apartment complex. I think he used to shack up with a different lady, one that lived a few doors down from me, on the second floor. One morning, running late as usual, I rushed toward my car, eager to get to work, when I turned and saw the killer, Darold (before he did what he did) behind me, begging for a ride. He asked if I worked on the Island and if so, what side. He said he needed someone to take him to the south side. Suspicious by nature, I lied and told him I worked on the north side. He said, “That’s cool,” and walked away. I jumped in my car pissed, that he had just wasted my precious minutes, because like I said I was running late, and then I sped away.

Alexis knew Darold. But then again she knew everyone. She was friendly like that. I’m not. I guess the only reason why I was friendly with Alexis (we occasionally had small talk), is because of a fire alarm.

About a year and a half ago, in the middle of the night, blaring sirens and flashing lights jolted me from my peaceful sleep. I jumped out of bed, reminiscing of my college dorm room drill days to search for my cat Jake. But my paranoid little one was so petrified by the loud noise, that he would not let me anywhere near him. So while other occupants were gathered safely out in the parking lot as fire engines rolled in, I was inside trying to capture a kitten as he dashed from underneath my bed to the couch to under the dining room table.

With some kitty treat in hand, I was finally able to scoop up my nutty cat, and with him in his carrier about ten minutes later, we managed to be the last ones out. Since I didn’t see any flames shooting out the windows, I threw my cat in the back seat of my car and decided to walk around to find out what was going on. I ran into Alexis and her fiancé. Her twins were babies, and she had safely locked them in the back seat of her car. She introduced herself, and gave me the 411 on the latest. The alarm was sounded by a resident in the adjoining building, and basically we just had to wait for the all clear, and soon we would be back inside.

I was grateful for the update, and from then on we would stop each other and chat for a short while from time to time. I think one time I held her door for her while she hauled one of the twins in his car seat into her apartment. Often times I would pull up from an exhausting day at the office and see her struggling with the car seats of her boys. Sometimes I would wish that we wouldn’t pull in at the same time all the time, because sometimes I just didn’t feel like talking. I talk all day at work.

The morning after her murder, I came rushing down the steps as usual to find her fiancé knocking on his neighbor’s door looking for Alexis. I heard him ask if she was there, and I heard him say she didn’t come home the night before. I hurried to my car. I knew something was wrong. A day later I was reading in The Island Packet that a Bluffton woman was found stabbed to death with multiple knife wounds in Charleston. The next day after that , I read that police picked up a registered sex offender at the Bluffton public library for violating his sex offender status, and that he was the prime suspect in Alexis's murder. It was Darold. I didn’t even know his name until I saw his mug shot, but I recognized him immediately as the guy who just a few months before had asked me for a ride. He allegedly killed Alexis in her car in Charleston after a Sunday prescription drug run.

A couple of days later I cried my heart out. I felt guilty and I felt fear, and I feel sorrow that such a kind soul, took a couple of wrong steps and is now gone too soon. I wonder how her twin boys will fare. She took those babies everywhere she went. I rarely saw her without the kids. Alexis was only 27 and Darold 32. I don’t know exactly what they had gotten themselves caught up in.

Although the rent is sky-high here, and this area is a quiet rental community with little crime, I knew something was going on in my building that I didn’t want any parts of. Still I barely speak to any of my neighbors, although I don’t feel the dark evil trailing the halls as it once had before. But yet death will come again, of course it’s coming for us all. I hope not to be taken too soon. I hope none of my loved once will soon meet this fate. And I pray that none see their end at the hands of another man. Regardless of how we go, I wonder if we’ll be ready for what awaits at the other end, or will we be sent to endure the same tortures here, all over again?



Body of missing Bluffton woman found in Charleston County | islandpacket.com

Man Charged with Bluffton Woman̢۪s Murder

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