White Space Season 1

online troll just looking to mess with people. It was one thing to fuck with people who deserved it, but why would you mess with grieving people. People who had lost friends, loves, family?
    Asshole.
    More than anything, though, Milo was pissed at himself for missing Jessica’s funeral, just like Other Mother said he would be. He supposed he knew he would be, too, somewhere deep in his heart. But the pain of seeing Jessica’s lifeless body was something he couldn’t bear.
    Perhaps today he could find some closure, and pay his respects at her grave.
    He looked outside his window. It looked like rain, so Milo put on a sweater, grabbed a chocolate-colored hoodie from the closet, then went downstairs and opened the garage, figuring he’d work up the courage to visit Jessica’s grave along the way.
    Milo rode his mountain bike up the long and winding trail leading toward Oxley Cemetery, pumping his legs at the top of the mountain, feeling his heart gain a hundred pounds or so with every few hundred feet he pedaled closer to Jessica’s grave.
    Knowing he’d turn himself coward about 500 yards before he did, Milo made a long circle around Oxley, then stopped pedaling as his bike careened dangerously fast down the hill toward the bottom, where Hamilton K-12 had sat without incident for 42 years. He pedaled past the front lawn, hating himself for being so weak.
    Seeing the school was like hearing fresh gunshots. A hundred thoughts pushed him to keep moving.
    Milo was surprised to see so many cars in the parking lot, and wondered what was happening inside. Maybe there were people inside still cleaning up for tomorrow’s opening. He wondered if it were even possible to get all the blood out of the classroom so quickly, or if Mr. Heller’s class would be closed off and the students shipped off to different rooms for the remainder of the year.
    As he rode past the parking lot, he saw that his guess was wrong. A large blue signboard was set up at the entrance reading, “Missing & Survivor’s Group Meeting 4:30 - 6:30 p.m. Thursday.”
    He thought about going inside, but only for a moment, knowing the crowd would only make him sadder.
    Besides, he couldn’t stand the thought of running into Jessica’s mom. Ever since her dad had passed three years earlier, the two of them were best friends. They did everything together, from binging on old Gilmore Girls DVD’s to the dates they had to get their nails done together after school every other Tuesday.
    Milo couldn’t begin to imagine what Mrs. Ruiz was going through, and if he went inside, he would have to look her in the eyes. He rode the rest of the way home hoping it wouldn’t rain, and promising himself that he would finally say goodbye to Jessica tomorrow. He owed it to her, and to himself.
    He was three blocks from home when the first splatter of rain hit the back of his head. Without stopping, or even slowing, Milo reached back with his right hand and lifted the hoodie over his head.
    He pulled up to his house and felt a slight chill, possibly because of the cool wind that came as the freezing rain started to splatter his back, but probably because of Beatrice’s white BMW X7 idling in the driveway, engine running, door open and lights on.
    It didn’t make sense for her SUV to be there at all. She was supposed to be in Seattle with Janet and Teena. Hamilton Island was reasonably small, and not exactly the sort of place where you had to worry about getting your vehicle stolen, Beatrice was usually neurotic enough to lock her car tighter than the vault at Chase Manhattan, even if she was just going inside to “tinkle,” as she liked to say, probably to annoy him.
    Milo leaned his bike against the closed garage door, then peered into the BMW’s cabin. Nothing seemed out of place. Her Maroon 5 CD was spinning like always, barely loud enough to hear outside the SUV, since Other Mom seemed allergic to listening to anything at a volume which might be mistaken for being enjoyable.
    Milo looked toward the house. The front door was slightly ajar. He was probably being silly, and there was almost certainly nothing to worry about, but his heart started racing anyway.
    He stepped inside the house and then into the living room, but saw no one inside.
    Same for the kitchen.
    He stepped into the hallway and broke the silence.
    “Beatrice?” he called. Milo swallowed, then only half aware of what he was doing, yelled, “Mom!”
    Still nothing.
    He ambled the rest of the