“What started as a whisper slowly turned into a scream…”

July 23, 2011.

My sister and I went to catch a matinee ofThe Deathly Hollows – Part II.As we left the theater, I noticed that you hadn’t called or texted me back. I had grown accustomed to your daily text “Good Morning, Punk,” or some variation. This was when I first realized that something was out of place. I went home and continued packing, loading boxes into every open square inch of my car. I kept calling, but there was still no answer. Concerned about becoming that psychotic significant...