They say that memories fade, I wish that were true. This one plays in my head on a loop whenever I think of her. The day we got the news and how it broke. If only it could have been different, and we got a different outcome. But now the truth is known, it's out there, and watching it replay over and over again.

The smell of gasoline, the laughter of children at play. The sound of engines roaring from the boats as the sun teasingly plays against the water of the lake.

Ah, what a beautiful day. Leaning back against the side of the railing and tilting my chin up towards the sun as it peeks through the large trees that shade the porch and house.

The week spent at the lake house had been fun. Convincing my older cousins to take me out on the jet skis, or to turn on the party barge and drag me along on the inner tubes. It had been exhilarating. The yummy food made by grandmother, and those who I knew as aunts and uncles, though they weren't exactly that. The different delicious casseroles and the feast of burgers grilled out on the back patio. I was almost sad to leave this place, this safe haven of a break from reality, after a long and grueling school year had wrapped.

My favorite aunt had departed the evening before, having to head back to pick up her daughter though they had plans to return to the lake house to spend some time there to celebrate her daughter's high school graduation, my favorite cousin out of the lot, though I didn't have many cousins to pick from. She was still my favorite.

Though I wouldn't always think of her as my favorite... a memory of her trying to convince me to try my first beer, though I was very much underage, as was she. The bitterness still lingers in my mouth as I think upon that memory.

Her laughing smile, teasingly pushing it, saying it tastes just like soda, though not as sweet. I couldn't help but be curious, taking the smallest sip of a cold beer that we'd snuck from the outside fridge, and it was just how I still remember it to be, bitter, sour, and definitely not anything like soda. I instantly spit it out and I remember cutting a glare at her for having me try such a disgusting beverage.

"We got to get going," A comforting voice called out beaconing my attention away from enjoy the final moments of peace and calm, knowing that we would be on the road home for at least eight and a half hours, I almost felt myself groaning. At least I'll have an entire row to myself, I thought joyfully heading towards the loaded up white van.

My twin had taken the backseat, while our foster sister snagged the middle, which only left the front two rows. Biting my lip, I had decided that I didn't want the one completely in the front, so I snagged the second closest to the front.

Each row had a DVD player, to prevent conflict on what to watch during the long journey back, and in the front row there was a shoe box full of different genres of movies to pick from. Selecting my favorite of the bunch, Lion King 1 1/2, placing it in the player as I planned to zone out for the first couple of hours and just watching my movie of choice.

The engine of the car revved up and they were on their way headed back to the place that I knew as home. Headphones on I focused my attention on the movie as the landscape passed by. Time steadily moved forward until a phone rang out, disturbing the somewhat quietness of the car.

"What do you mean she wasn't on the plane?" Dad's voice rung out. She couldn't help but look away from the end of her movie and at her dad. There was a pause and then he repeated the question, as if the answer he received was unclear.

"What do you mean, she wasn't on the plane?" He asked again. There was another pause as a sinking sensation would soon fill the pit of my stomach. I was aware that my aunt had gone to get my cousin that day, we all knew she was supposed to go back to the lake house later with her daughter in tow.

"You need to get there; you need to fly out there. Call the news, call everyone, we need everyone's help to find her." He said to the person on the phone. There was a pause, time seemed to take forever before her finally said, "Call me the minute you land."

This moment would stick with her for her life. On constant repeat. The day she went missing, the day she just vanished into thin air never to be seen again.

The rest of the day is a blur, I don't remember how we got home, or when we got home. I do know that we did arrive back at our home all the while dad was making phone calls, to whom my memory no longer recalls.

The memories of dad leaving us with family friends, so he could fly out to help look for her. To support his sister, my aunt, in her time of need. Gut wrenching pleas, the news painting the man who was considered the prime suspect, the lies he told. Who knows if those other men were truly a part of it. The ever-changing story.

Time passed, as it always does, and we've been left with more questions than answers. Though one thing is for certain, she is never going to return to us. A haunting thought to look back on so many years after this happened. He did it again, though we don't know if he did kill her, though it's assumed by most now that he's taken another's life almost to the day that she went missing.

The warning signs from my aunt, warning everyone, telling them to stay away from this man. He's dangerous, but no one truly believed her until this happened. He was convicted for another woman's murder. Shockingly unsurprising to me and my family. We had warned them, and no one believed us. What more could we have done? A light sentence was given, at least that is how I view it.

More time has passed... I heard his confession earlier today; I didn't even realize it was happening until I stumbled upon it. Blindsided by this information as it gets pumped and dumped all over the internet, reminding me of the day she didn't come home.

Forgetting how my aunt had told us on one of her visits that she had attempted to pay for the information to find my cousin. I thought she was crazy, that he wouldn't possibly tell us, that he'd take the money and run. Forgetting that he was being charged with crimes of fraud and money wiring.

Hearing what he did was gut wrenching, hearing his voice confess once more that he is a killer. He took her life. He did it. A crime that won't ever be punished.

Knowing that at least we know he did do it, that she is forever gone, without being able to bring even a piece of her back to us. But she has long since been buried in my mind, a warning of which is burned into my being. With this, we have closure, a final acknowledgement of who did this.

Goodbye, the day she never returned, I am letting this one memory that haunts me go.