I have a confession...

...to make. While I was in Florida, visiting with Amber's Family, I looked at a file that many would find...disturbing to say the least.

But before I continue, let me give you a little back history about me. When it comes to death, I need evidential proof. I am a born and raised Irish Catholic, and as someone passes away there is a wake, followed by an open casket mass. In other words, there is a body, and I see it. However unsightly some mind find this, it's what I know, it's what I am used to.

Now, when Amber was murdered all I had to go on was Dad Peck's and the Detective's word. I do realize that neither person is likely to lie about a murder, but this never appeased my mind. For four years there has been a part of me that has still be waiting for Amber to show up at my door to go grocery shopping. It's irrational, and illogical, but alas, it is what has been tripping me up and leaving me in a constant cycle of, "what the hell is happening to me?"

So while I was in Florida, I asked Mom Peck if I could look at the file that I knew contained pictures of a very violent nature. She, of course, balked at the very idea of this. "Why would you want to do that Nellie, why would you want to put yourself through that?" My answer, "Because I need to. I know it sounds horrific and awful. But I can't continue to swim in circles any longer, I'm going to drown if I don't do something drastic." Mom Peck, "Aren't you afraid you're going to have nightmares?" Me, "They couldn't be any worse than what they are now."

My heart was racing, and the bile was burning in my throat as I opened the file to the crime scene photos. Tears were on the verge of spilling, and my hands were trembling, but I didn't look away. There she was in color, the girl I loved, my friend, my best friend. I won't describe what I saw, only that it wasn't as bad or terrifying as I thought it was going to be. But it did what it needed to do, I was no longer mourning a stranger in an article I read on line, I was mourning Amber. Seeing those photos also eased my mind about her killer. Not only is he a coward, but he is a liar. And that's all I have to say about that.

Since I have been home, I have been walking around with this secret. It has affected my sleep, meaning, I hardly get any now. I'm not suffering from nightmares -- I am going through what most everyone else did when they first heard of Amber's death. Every moment up until looking at those images has been a waking nightmare. None of it was real to me, but it is now. I can say that I am actively moving forward, instead of trotting on a treadmill, and getting no where.

Many may never understand my actions, but all I can say is I did what I had to do in order to survive.