In the spring of 2022, the 44 Division of the Toronto Police Service discovered the burnt remains of Rachel Amina Darwish, Daniel Brewer, and Mitig Biskane, in southern Ontario, Canada. The only clues offering an explanation for the three deaths were found in an anonymous blog written by an unknown individual.
The following content was taken from the blog website, everyoneandnoone.org.
The blog posts begin on March 13.
For the last few weeks I was Michael Anderson. I stole all my pics from some guy in Australia named Aleksander Vukcevic. Posts filled my page like a list of attributes—my dirt bike, my cat, me on a boat. My bio read, “Eat well. Stay in shape. Die anyway.”
I was in Rachel Darwish’s DMs. The top part of her face was cut off in her profile pic, showing just her toothy smile and dark hair falling onto her shoulders. Her posts were mostly food pics, inspirational quotes, concert pics of Prince, sunsets, and photos of her taken at angles that hide her face. I first slid into her DMs like this:
For weeks, she made me feel like someone—validating me with every kiss, every cuddle, every sly look. We shared food together, and dreamed up plans for the future, from exploring the caves at Lake Simcoe to driving to the Maritimes.
Posted on May 6
I woke up to Leah lying beside me, rubbing my arm. A mahogany dresser guarded the foot of the bed. In the dresser mirror, that was visible over our toes, I saw the reflection of a crucifix hanging on the wall above our heads.
Walking into my apartment, the smell seemed foreign to me, vaguely familiar. It was late at night. I didn't remember the last time I saw William. Days maybe? Weeks? I wondered if he was home, and then I heard his bed creak in his room. Sitting on the sofa, I burnt through two cigarettes thinking about how I would tell him.
I woke up confused—the shattered remnants of a nightmare inside my head remained. Opening my eyes, I thought I'd see Leah's purple walls, but instead I squinted through the morning dimness and saw my bare, empty walls, eggshell white.
I laid awake in my bed, the rhythm of passing cars outside on loop. I couldn't sleep without the pills. Leah was working night shift. I shifted around trying to find that comfortable spot on my bed where sleep would take over, but it was nowhere to be found. I threw the covers off myself and slipped on a pair of boxers.
My footsteps echoed off the face of a building towering over me. It was three in the morning, the air was void of daytime noises. I pushed forward, fingering the Zippo lighter in my pocket, rushing to buy smokes so I could go back home—go back to William.
We slept through the day—a deep long sleep that we both needed. It was nighttime again and she had not woken up. Her mouth hung slightly open and her eyes darted around under her eyelids. I tried to fall back to sleep, but wakefulness seeped into my mind, and with it, came thoughts of William.