First Kill: A Dave Carver Novella - Plot & Excerpts
On its own, this wouldn’t have been particularly strange: it’s an unfortunate fact of living in the South Bronx that sometimes classmates won’t show up in class on Monday morning. A lot of them were never seen in the neighborhood again. A lot of them were never heard from again. No, it wasn’t strange that Melissa Freeman went missing. What was remarkable was that it was Melissa Freeman who went missing. I guess every graduating class, even in the dilapidated and moldy schools where I got my high school education, has at least one student that the faculty can point to with pride and say, “That one’s ours.” One student who makes it worthwhile for teachers to show up for work. One bright spot, even in the dark sea that is the New York Public School system. One kid with actual promise. That was Melissa Freeman in my school’s class of 1999. I was a few years younger than her—a sophomore while she was a senior—and I always found her inspiring. She’d been accepted to Harvard, Yale, and Duke, but she was planning to attend Columbia on a full scholarship.
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