The Greatest Mystery to Grace a Middle School by Victory Lenz

The Greatest Mystery to Grace a Middle School

Victorya Lenz

To preface, I am a mostly unbiased passerby to an event that shook the very core of my middle school in 2011. This is based off a completely true story, save for narrator bias. I vowed to myself I would never speak of this to another soul, but after 10 years of silence, it still haunts me. Oh god, does it haunt me. I can no longer walk the hallways of the school without thinking of the rumors that arose from the ashes of this affair.

It was a chilly winter afternoon shortly before Christmas break in the middle school corridors when I first heard the loudspeaker announcement. The faceless voice ordered everyone to their homerooms. Students grabbed for the comforting hands of their friends, shuffling in single file line as quickly as the teachers allowed. Under a cloud of hushed silence and feverish whispering, children theorized about what could be waiting outside of our classroom doors. The lockdown felt like it went on for hours, but our teachers busied us with games and puzzles, handing out candy canes and mini chocolates left over from previous holidays .

While we huddled up our classrooms, blissfully unaware of the carnage that had been unleashed in our very school, our teacher stood up and cleared her throat. Her sullen expression bore itself into our hearts, and the bags from exhaustion looked deeper than ever, almost as if her heart had gained another 10 pounds of angst. She drew a dramatic breath, rattling her lungs, and she fumbled at the pack of cigarettes tucked underneath the folds of her jacket like she was reaching for assurance.

When she laid the news on us, we all sat back in our seats, stunned. A class clown offered a gesture of humor but was quickly shot down by the burden of despair that was bestowed upon our minuscule minds. That’s when the real rumors began. At first the most unpopular kids were blamed. Everyone assumed that this could have been brought on only by some semblance of evil . Friend turned against friend, foes joined together to shield against the attacks of blame and fear . You, dear reader, may be wondering how long this went on, and if I can be transparent, it never really ended. After a few months the bathroom was opened back up, as leaky bladders and angry parents demanded there to be more rest areas throughout the corridors, but the sentiment of danger never left . There was still a monster roaming among us.

It all happened in the bathroom, and again I can’t stress enough how disassociated I must be now to talk about it. But nevertheless, it was the men’s bathroom. No one knows exactly when it happened, as no one reported the initial act which led to the speculation this was done by a single offender. In the days that followed, we were all in a collective haze. I’d like to say this brought us, as a collective, together, but in fact it did the opposite . Distrust ruled the streets, suspicions rose, rumors ran

All that was clear was that at some point someone sneaked into the bathroom, more than likely without a hall pass, crept into the men’s bathroom, and committed the crime . Hours later, the horrific smell attracted some teenage boys that investigated and quickly left the scene to report what they saw. Soon they taped off the bathroom and shuffled all of us into our respective rooms while the higher ups investigated the evidence .

The most we could gather is that the culprit went in early to classes, or perhaps swiped a hall pass, but when the teachers regrouped, they realized no students had used a hall pass during first period. Which lead to a bigger question: Was this a conspiracy? Had it been a group of students? I had turned into an amateur sleuth, puzzling about this for the weeks and months that followed.

I suppose after all, I should explain in short what happened, as it may be relevant to the timeline of events. There is no eloquent way of muddying the waters of this wretched deed, so I will be blunt. During sometime between arrival and midway through second period, someone took a monster dump in the men’s urinal.

Before you, who I’m sure is a seasoned and prudent reader, have a haughty laugh and throw this into the trash, I implore you to put yourself into the 2011 small town middle school and feel the intensity of this offense. Someone, either through a crime of passion or premeditated malice, went unseen into the men’s bathroom and pooped, large and strong, right into a urinal . What can be gathered from eyewitness testimony is that they made no attempt to clean it up or conceal this misdeed . There was no smear of waffle stomping or a frantic moving of evidence, it was a clean job through and through .

Over the months and years that followed, there were several theories, and this is another reason why I am divulging this atrocity. For purely selfish satisfaction, I need to catch the offender. At least for my own peace of mind, and I hope, to settle a shaken community after all they went through. For privacy’s sake, all names have been changed to conceal the identity of the suspects, but due to the lack of security cameras in the corridors, there’s no evidence save a possible DNA test on any residual evidence. God knows, the criminal may have worn gloves then we’d still be at the theorizing state.

I’m going off track, so let’s get to the basics, there are three possible suspects .

First, we have Jeremy S. Jeremy was a small statured blonde athletic kid. Jeremy was easy enough to get along with, fit into almost any clique, and was a nice enough guy. He was the perfect child, played every sport, got perfect grades, never really had an issue with anyone, broke running records, and came from the idyllic nuclear white picket fence family. However, Jeremy had strange outbursts of energy, and everyone knew his dad was difficult to put it lightly, as both his mom and dad were all-star athletes and expected nothing less. In addition, his mother was on the PTA and a teacher’s assistant, giving Jeremy no alibi for prior to school starting, and allowing him almost full access to the bathrooms, as everyone knew him and wouldn’t question his hall pass status if they saw him lurking about on his own.

If I can interject, I was the primary speculator of Jeremy . He just seemed too clean cut, and no one ever questioned his walks about the school. Jeremy would also stay behind school due to his mom, knowing the layout and getaway routes easily, also he had a penchant for being a bit mischievous in nature . Plus, this would be the perfect act of rebellion. No one would ever suspect him, nor would he ever get into trouble if caught. Second, we have Marshall; someone who was very small, nimble, with dark hair and a crooked smile. Marshall was the new kid, but he came with a history. All anyone knew was that he got kicked out of his old school and hung with a particularly rough crowd. The group in question would mill about in the bathrooms and write obscenities, hand in homework late, and punch lockers. All precursors to some real rule-breaking behavior . Marshall didn’t care about hall passes, and in an attempt to fit in, most of the grade feared

he’d do the worst hazing imaginable to fit in. As for alibi, Marshall didn’t need it, he’d do as he pleased. Which, for a small town such as mine, was about the most dastardly thing a kid could do .

I personally never liked Marshall for the crime . Maybe one of his cohorts, sure, but god knows they would have taken credit for a hit this big. That is the most chilling thing about this incident, that no one ever came forward. Whoever it was kept quiet all throughout high school, and there were only ever whispers of ideas. Most people assumed it was Marshall, but I just know that if he had been walking through the hallways without a pass he would have been hauled straight to the principal’s office, as that happened frequently .

The third option was more rumor and unfounded, but as a diligent reporter, I am obligated to say all the facts. It was possible the misdeed was committed by faculty. It’s not completely off base, as there had been major budget cuts and layoffs, and disgruntled teachers were a dime a dozen . A teacher could have slipped out unseen, they would have had prior knowledge of who would be out and about and could make a quick getaway. A teacher would also explain why no one ever took credit. However, a teacher would have more of a risk, the risk of being caught and fired. It would have had to be a crime of revenge, which in theory makes sense, but logically it doesn’t seem like the most direct statement to make, especially if it results in the potential loss of a job . At that point, it seems more prudent to vandalize a little harder, or send a strongly worded letter of disgruntlement or something along those lines .

As you, my friends in decoding, have probably picked up on by now, I’m not a fan of this theory. I guess it makes sense out of context, but not in conjunction with the mysteriousness of the event. Why did no one ever claim it? How did everyone just forget?

Now, before I leave you, my dear reader, off to investigate, I must confess . There is a fourth suspect, someone who has remained enamored with the story, someone who has been silently stalking the series of events leading up to the dastardly deed . That person is me .

In truth, I went to the bathroom that morning, the teacher dismissed me without a hall pass as it was only two doors down. I took a very long time curling up in the stall reading the last chapter of my book before I had to return to my own personal geography class hell. The women’s bathroom was right next to the entrance of the men’s, and I will admit, when the other was closed, I would go into the men’s. I saw a group of boys run out of the bathroom with their noses plugged one whole period before official discovery. I have become obsessed with this crime, as I view it as the perfect rebellion, silent but deadly . As much as I want answers, getting this story off my chest is enough to make me accept the possibility no one might ever solve the unlawful act. Of course, that is a great attitude for the offender to have, making me a very possible culprit .

Perhaps, in a moment of pure psychosis, I left the bathroom . Seizing my opportunity, I might have crept into the men’s bathroom, pooped in the urinal, washed my hands, then hid in a stall when I heard someone coming. As the group of boys entered, it is possible that I waited until they entered into their respective stalls and made a run for it into the women’s bathroom to have an alibi . What if I sulked in there and moved the bookmark in my book for the sake of authenticity, then waited until I saw another person come into the women’s bathroom for a witness? Then I could have left, walking slow enough for the boys from before to see me and confirm my whereabouts, and slipped back into the classroom .

Perhaps, it was none of us. Maybe it was another unnamed source . Perhaps no one did it and it was a collective hallucination that haunted a school. Most likely, no one will ever be prosecuted for the transgression. But now, I am not alone in my query .