The Rose Files

There was quite a hub going on in the quiet neighbourhood of Dewbury Oaks. Six police cars surrounded the 1100 block of Aquifer Ln. People peered through the window blinds while others prententiously came out to get the morning paper. One way or another, our fellow neighbors tried to find out what the trouble on Aquifer Lane was about.
For about two months, rumors circled all around Dewbury Oaks about what the trouble on Aquifer Ln. could have been about. At every civic club meeting, 1100 Aquifer Lane came about in the conversation. Even people that had never attended a civic club meeting- teenagers, as myself, had been attentively participating.
"Which house did the police search?" asked a gray-haired woman whose tag read Genevieve- 2300 Blk. Hensing.
"The police searched their house too?" asked a girl named Rebecca, who happened to attend my school. I couldn't believe it. These people were clueless about the people residing in the medium-sized brown house with the waterfountain in the front yard. No one knew anything about them, not even Rebecca, who also lived on the 1100 block of Aquifer Ln. I couldn't say I knew much about the people living in the brown house, because I honestly didn't. I only knew one thing about the people there. And that one thing is that there is a girl named Rose that lives there.
I felt rather foolish raising my hand and telling everyone that a girl named Rose lives there. How is that supposed to help? Anyways, people want to know what happened so most likely they would know who lives there. Yet, they were so clueless when to me some peices seemed to make sense.
"Who lives there anyway?" I heard a voice say. I craned my neck higher only to see heads shaking no and shrugging shoulders and a couple of 'who knows'. So, that is when I stood up and said
"Rose." I sat back down on my chair. For a while, silence prevailed and then it was broken by a sudden outburst of conversation.
"Rose? Who is Rose?" my mother asked me, "How do you know these people?"
I opened my mouth to release a word, when another shower of questions rained on me and the civic club president came in blowing his whistle
"Silence! Silence!"
For a second, the silence ringed in my ears as the civic club president walked towards the door. It was broken by the sound of the door creaking and:
"I call this meeting, officially over."