The Crocotta, part two

It was almost a year ago, eight months to be exact, when Maria Ashland went missing sometime between the hours of eight and midnight on February nineteenth. Her and her family were camping in the woods behind their house as a celebration for their little girls 7th birthday, her parents said she loved the outdoors. Her parents told her she could spend the night in the tent alone if she really wanted, what harm could it do to spend one night alone. They when they went to check on their daughter at midnight, they found her tent empty, absolutely empty. None of her food, her clothes, not even her sleeping bag was there. Days later, the police found the contents of the tent shredded and scattered three miles into the forest, no trace of little Maria was found. It was all over the news and after three months the family moved away. The story had only recently fizzled out of local media, the authorities just said that there was no use searching for what wasn't there. I don't know how I could have forgotten about that, it wasn't that long ago, so theres no way it could be that little girl down the street. Yet, sure as I'm standing there, I hear the voice one more time.
"Help me..."
I know thats a childs voice, out there somewhere in the forest. There aren't too many children in this area, just those stupid god damned teens and their drugs, shooting up at all hours of the night, screaming and laughing deep in the forest. When you see them on the streets they look just like anyone else, just like any normal teenager who goes to a normal high school. They're such nice kids during the day, they mow their parents lawns, do their homework, shoot hoops or play street hockey in the cul-de-sac. But late at night, when everyone is trying to sleep, they sneak out of bed and into the woods, deep in the woods where they do their drugs and crack dirty jokes, they spend the night laughing away and screaming in tongues, probably hallucinating. That must be whats going on, why else is there so much screaming, so much laughing so late at night. Thats gotta be the explanation, thats what I tell myself.
"Help me..."
I should stop wasting time, stop reminiscing about whatever, I've got a little girl to find, she's probably cold and scared out there.

To Be Continued