Stories

Hiding the hurt

There was another side to Shannon's life that we knew nothing about...


Published by: Laura Hinton and Sharon Ward
Published on: 27 December 2012


The kitchen was filled with the delicious smell of Indian spices. It was two days after New Year's Eve, so you'd have thought I'd have been sick of food!
But this just smelt too good. My daughter Shannon, 24, was bent over the hob stirring something in a saucepan.
‘What are you making?' I asked. ‘Vegetable curry,' she laughed, flashing her infectious smile. ‘Well, the diet can start next week,' I chuckled.
Shannon was a great cook. If you ever needed to find her, your first place to look would be the kitchen. She hadn't even gone out with her mates on New Year's Eve because she'd been too busy cooking sausage rolls! Sometimes, she'd go round to her friends' houses with the intention of going clubbing, but she wouldn't make it.
‘I stayed in,' she'd tell me. ‘I showed Susan's parents how to cook a risotto.'
Shannon certainly wasn't afraid to be herself. She was only 5ft tall but she made up for that with her huge personality.
‘So how are things with Steve?' I asked, gently broaching the subject.
They'd only been dating for three months, but she'd barely seen him over Christmas. ‘I've ended it,' she croaked. ‘Oh, love,' I sighed, giving her a huge hug.
Slowly, she let it all out. ‘I kept trying to get him to go back to college,' she said. ‘But he won't listen. He doesn't want to better himself.'
‘He's just different to you,' I soothed, stroking her golden curls. She was my very own Shirley Temple. ‘See the New Year as a fresh start.'
Truth be told, I hadn't particularly warmed to Steve. He was always friendly enough, but I thought she could do better. He didn't work, which was why Shannon was trying to encourage him to go back to college.
She was my only child, so I was a little overprotective. The thing is, Shannon thought she could help everyone, but sometimes you just can't...
‘You'll meet someone better,' I smiled.
Steve, 24, had been quite full-on. Just a couple of days after Christmas, she'd popped round his when he'd called me.
‘Did you buy that blue shirt for Shannon that she's wearing?' he asked. ‘Of course,' I frowned.
‘I didn't believe her,' he admitted. ‘I'm sorry...'
‘It's okay,' I said, realising he must be jealous she hadn't gone over in the tracksuit he'd bought her for Christmas.
At least she could put him behind her now...
Just a few days later, I walked past Shannon's room and saw she was getting ready to go out.
‘I'm going to a party with Susan,' she explained. ‘But I'm getting the last of my things from Steve's place first.'
‘Text to let me know how it went,' I told her.
The following morning, I got up and went to work. I tried calling her a few times but heard nothing back. So I rang Susan.
‘I assumed she stayed at Steve's,' she said. ‘I haven't seen her.' A chill went through me. That wasn't like Shannon.
Concerned, I logged onto the computer when I got home and checked her call history. Our mobiles were linked to the same account. Strangely, the last number she'd rung was Steve's mum the night before. But he didn't live with his mum. So why would she be going there? I rang her straight away.
Fortunately, she picked up on the first ring.
‘They were meant to come for dinner last night,' she said. ‘But they didn't show up.'
‘I thought they'd split up?!'I said, scratching my head.
‘I'm not sure,' she admitted. ‘I'll definitely let you know if I hear anything.'
That night, I kept trying Shannon's mobile, but it went to voicemail. I tried to sleep but I just couldn't.
‘I think something's happened,' I panicked to my partner Bill, 48.
‘She's probably lost her phone,' he soothed.
But something was niggling at me. I'd always been pretty strict with Shannon, so her not getting in touch was out of character.
Knowing I wouldn't be able to sleep, I climbed out of bed, got dressed and drove to Steve's apartment. It was 1am by the time I had arrived there, but I'd worked myself into such a frenzy that I didn't care and started banging on the door. ‘I know you're there, Steve!' I started shouting.
Eventually, someone opened the door. ‘I'm looking for Shannon,' I told him.
‘I'm Eric, Steve's housemate,' he mumbled, barely able to look me in the eye. ‘I don't know where they are.'
‘B-but...' I started, before he slammed the door in my face.
Shocked by his reaction, I shakily reached for my phone and rang the police. I didn't like the look Eric had given me.
‘I'm sorry, but there isn't anything we can do,' a police officer told me. ‘Shannon's an adult and she hasn't even been missing for 48 hours.'
Feeling stupid for overreacting, I went home. I barely slept, though, and kept listening out for Shannon's car or her high heels clip-clopping on the stairs.
The following morning, I rang Steve again and this time he picked up.
‘Where is she?' I cried. But he clearly wasn't in the mood to talk. ‘Do me a favour,' he snarled. ‘Tell Shannon to never come back here.' ‘I'd like that very much,' I snapped back. ‘But where is she?!'
‘She left with friends,' he snapped. Then he hung up.
I didn't believe him, though, and minutes later, the phone rang. ‘Shannon?' I cried, snatching up the phone.
‘No, I'm sorry,' a man said. It was the officer I'd spoken to the night before calling back.
‘Did Shannon have any tattoos?' he asked.
‘Yes, a hummingbird on her back,' I said. ‘Why?!'
‘I think you need to come to the station,' he said. ‘Bring someone with you.'
Minutes later, Bill was driving me there. We sat in silence as I stewed over what was going on. Was Shannon in trouble?
At the station, the officer guided us into a quiet room.
‘I'm so sorry,' he whispered. ‘Shannon has been murdered.'
‘No!' I gasped. But I saw a sympathy in his eyes I'd never seen before.
‘She was shot in the head,' he said, as I clung onto Bill. Everything was closing in on me, pulling me down.
‘You need to see her phone records,' I finally stuttered to the officer. ‘Why?' Bill frowned.
‘It was Steve,' I said, so sure of myself. ‘Please find him.'
The officer nodded. ‘Where was she?' I whispered.
All we were told was that Shannon's body had been discovered in a rubbish bin in a factory across town. My beautiful daughter had a single bullet through her head.
My heart shattered into a million pieces. ‘We think she was about to use her phone, that's why she didn't see the gun,' the officer went on.
‘She might have been trying to call me,' I sobbed to Bill. ‘I could've saved her.'
‘We don't know that,' he soothed. I knew he was right, but the thought still haunted me. We just didn't understand why Steve had done this.
Then, the next day, Susan came to see us.
‘Steve attacked Shannon about a month ago,' she wept. ‘She made us promise not to say anything.' I was horrified.
As we'd celebrated Christmas and saw in the New Year, she'd been hiding this behind her dazzling smile.
‘I can't believe I didn't see any bruises' I cried.
‘There was nothing we could have done,' Bill said. ‘She didn't want us to know. But this was probably why she left him.'
‘Why did she go back that night?' I wept.
Susan explained she'd dropped her off at the house that night. But there were other girls there at the time.
‘I thought she was safe,' she sobbed.
I held her in my arms. ‘This isn't your fault,' I said.
The more I thought about it, the more I realised Steve had been controlling. If he couldn't have her, nobody else could. She'd dumped him so, in retaliation, he'd killed her and then dumped her body.
Then, suddenly, a shiver ran up my spine. ‘Steve spoke to me on the phone that day as if she was alive,' I whispered. ‘He already had her blood on his hands.' I felt sick. I struggled to even get up in the morning.
‘You need to eat,' Bill begged me everyday. ‘Please.'
‘I can't,' I sobbed, my eyes red from crying. ‘Everything just reminds me of Shannon.'
Everywhere I turned, I'd see her. Either cooking at the stove or simply sat giggling away at something on telly...
Thinking back for a moment, I remembered Shannon as a little girl. As a kid, she didn't eat much at all. She'd only ever eaten four things - yoghurt, chicken nuggets, chips and turkey.
‘One day, you'll appreciate good food,' I would say.
It's funny that she'd grown up to become such an amazing cook. Who knows, she might have become a chef. She'd had dreams of becoming a lawyer, too. She had so many dreams, so much to live for. But she'd never be able to do any of these things now.
Instead, I was having to say goodbye to my only child.
We were advised not to see her body, but I gave the funeral directors her favourite black suit to dress her in and a white blanket for her to hold. ‘I've got a matching one,' I wept.
‘That's fine,' he said. ‘We'll straighten Shannon's hair, too.'
‘No!' I cried, horrified. ‘Leave her curls.' She had to be my little Shirley Temple forever...
On a cold winter's day in early February, Shannon was buried after a beautiful service where we played I'll Be Missing You by Faith Evans.
‘I'll get justice for you,' I whispered, pulling my jacket up-close to my face. But no matter what I did, I still felt so cold.
To make things even more difficult, the court case was long and drawn out because of the people who'd helped Steve dump her body. We heard that Steve had shot Shannon in theside of her head. They'd been arguing and two of Steve's friends were in the room. Some of the girls were downstairs and others had popped out for food.
After shooting Shannon, Steve had run downstairs to see if anyone had heard. When it appeared they hadn't, he and his pals had wrapped Shannon's body up in a rug.
Then they'd dragged her downstairs and chucked her body in the truck, before dumping her in a bin. ‘There were bruises on the back of her head and shoulders,' the coroner told us. ‘From where she was dragged down the stairs.'
‘How could they do this to my beautiful baby?' I sobbed.
When the girls returned, they said the boys were cleaning the house with bleach. They'd seen some bloody paper towels but had assumed someone had simply cut their finger. The boys had just said that Shannon had gone home.
‘She didn't deserve this,' I whispered.
Thinking back, I remembered one occasion when she was a youngster. I'd gone to pick her up from a pal's house. We were about to leave when one of the neighbours had come out.
‘What have you done to make Shannon so lovely?' this woman had asked. ‘I think she's the most polite little girl I've ever met!'
‘Thank you,' I'd laughed, feeling so proud.
I'd held onto that sense of pride every single day. It got me through the darkest time of my entire life.
Finally, after three long years, her ex-boyfriend Steve - real name Sulinda Sun - was convicted of first-degree murder and jailed for life. His roommate Eric Anderson, 31, pleaded guilty to accessory to murder and was sentenced to four to five years in jail, while Phirun So, 25, pleaded the same and received three years.
‘It will never even come close to making up for my tragic loss,' I sobbed to Bill.
But, although it was the hardest thing I've ever done, I focused all my energy on setting up the Shannon Lee Meara Foundation. It took my mind off things, as well as being a good cause.
Now, we try our best to educate youngsters about the dangers of domestic violence.
The hummingbird - Shannon's tattoo, which is a sign of peace - is the symbol of the foundation. Like my daughter, all I want to do is help people as much as
I possibly can.
Sadly, Shannon tried to help someone who was so twisted and evil that she just didn't stand a chance.

• For more information on the Shannon Lee Meara Foundation, visit www.shannonleemearafoundation.org.

*Some names have been changed.  


Arlene Meara, 59, Woburn, USA