| abstract | - It all started when my roommate Mickey and I were listening to the radio in the car one morning while driving to class. Once the news portion came on, we would of course, like a couple of dumbass 18-year-olds, ignore it and talk about what classes we hated or what girls we liked. Typical stuff. Today was different. The news reporter claimed that a 12-year-old girl named Rosie Saxxon went missing and immediately Mickey dropped dead silent and began starring at the radio. He only uttered one thing from his barely parted lips, "I know that girl." "Bullshit, Mike," I said in a deadpan tone. You see, Mike had a pretty fucked up sense of humor. When we were in high school, a girl from our class died in a car accident and amidst everyone's grief, all he could do was joke about how she shouldn't have been drinking and driving. Eventually it's something you get used to. His jokes may sting a bit, but to him it's all fun and games. "No…Seriously…I know her. I used to baby sit her when we were still in high school. Her parents and I were really close…I was like a big brother to her…" Mike's voice never grew louder than a hushed murmur. "Hey man, I'm really sorry," I said with a sincerity I never thought I'd have to throw in Mickey's direction. He continued to stare at the radio through the entire news report and once the music came back on, he quickly turned it off. Mike was serious, and that's saying something…I've never seen him serious about anything.
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