The Search | Teen Ink

The Search

January 9, 2017
By Anonymous

Author's note:

I enjoy thrillers and mysterys, especially the ones that keep me on the edge of my seat. This is the first time I have ever written anything this long, so I'm hoping people will enjoy it!

There is nothing I love more than the New York City skyline. As I sit here at 6:00 AM in the morning dew watching the sunrise with my Yalfa spiced coffee, I can only think of how much my father would have enjoyed doing this every morning with me. I try to watch the sunrise every morning whether I’m in NYC, Miami, Los Angeles or Chicago; it gives me a peace of mind. It makes me feel as if the whole world is on pause watching the beauty that Mother Nature has provided for us. My apartments in all of these cities have a great view from the rooftop of the pinkish-orange sunrise over the silhouette of the city. As the sun peaks over the buildings and slowly rises into the sky, reality sets back in and it’s time for work. I slide on my black Nordstrom jeans, tuck in my white flowing shirt and put on my beige Dior jacket. I lace up my heels and run to the elevator before my driver leaves thinking I overslept again. It’s just another day in the office.
My name is Charlotte King, I am 25 years old and I am the corporate owner of B&G Clothing. My brother, Jacob, works alongside me when he’s not in school at NYU. Surprisingly enough, he’s meeting me in the office today since he has no classes. On the drive to the office the sun peaks through the tall skyscrapers nearly blinding me as I sip my third cup of coffee. That Yalfa must make lots of money off of me. I pulled up to the big glass office building within ten minutes and was off to the elevator.
“Hello Ms. King!”
“Hey Charlotte.”
“Good morning ma’am.”
“Ms. King a package arrived for you today,” Henry at the front desk had told me.
I arrived to the 67th floor and whipped open the glass doors to find everyone scrambling around the office and papers flying everywhere. Phones were ringing off the hook and workers were stumbling over each other running around; it looked like a scene from the jungle. I stopped one of the workers and asked,
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“Ma’am we’re getting call after call because there was an immediate rush on the clothing sale so we’re way deep down in backorder.”
“This day can’t get any worse, where’s Jacob? Have you seen Jake?”
“He’s in your office waiting for you with a package.”
I basically ran to my office to avoid all of the fiasco. As soon as my office door shut, I breathed heavily, closed my eyes, and sprawled my back and arms against the door. Jake was sitting on the couch staring at me wide-eyed and laughing.
“Wow sis, you look great.”
I ignored his snarky comment and beamed my eyes towards the beige cardboard box sitting on my desk. I gathered myself together and walked towards the box. The label read, “Items from Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI).” I slowly cut through the crease in the tape just in case there was anything fragile inside. Sitting in the box were my parents belongings that had been used for the investigation. They had sent everything back to us to let us know they had closed the case and gave up. I picked up a bag with my dads favorite gold watch and promptly dropped in back in the bag. I knew I had to be strong for my brother so I ignored all of the grief and pain I was feeling;
“So there seems to be a problem with the online store. For some reason people want a lot of the clothing and they want it now. We’re deep in back order and have more calls to make than we could ever want.”
“Charlotte what’s in the box?”
“Do you think I should hang a painting right here?”
“Charlotte, stop trying to change the subject and tell me what’s in the box.”
“They closed mom and dads case. All of the belongings they used as evidence are in the box with a written apology.”
“Wow. After eight years everyone has really given up. I knew this day would eventually come, but I never thought I’d see it.”
Today is a really difficult day for my brother and I, and work is really the only thing that can keep our minds clear. It’s our parents’ 25th anniversary and they won’t be here to celebrate it with each other or us. Neither of us really likes to talk about it. To make the matter worse, we get this package telling us they’ve given up the search and we would never get tour parents back. I always tend to change the subject whenever someone mentions parents. Everyone in the office knows how difficult of a day this is for my brother and I so they always try to keep us happy.

About eight years ago my parents went missing. We lived in a suburban area in Ithaca, New York. I was 17 in high school, and my brother was 11 in sixth grade. I had arrived home from soccer practice at usual time and casually unlocked the front door like I always do. I walked in to find shattered glass and overturned furniture in the living room, and the drawer of knives open in the kitchen. I called for my parents, but I got no response. I immediately dialed 911 and proceeded to investigate on my own as they made their way to my house. I ran back to the kitchen and grabbed a knife before I made my way to the staircase. There was blood all over the stairs as I began to walk slowly up. I clung to the wall on the side of the staircase and made my way to the top. The only light that was on was in the hallway and it was extremely quiet. Blood trailed all the way up the stairs and through the hall to every room on the top floor. I screamed at the top of my lungs and started to cry. A few minutes passed while I sat on the stairs, and my neighbor Scott Wilson ran in through the front door and looked around the room in shock with his mouth dropped open. He ran up to me on the staircase and asked what happened as I continued to shout that I didn’t know. He asked where my brother was and I again told him I didn’t know.
Scott lived down the street from me, maybe five houses down. He had the biggest crush on me since we were little kids, even though he was two years older. Our families were really close and we often vacationed together. We were in school together at the same time, but he was older. He was the typical popular jock that every girl dreamed of having. He was captain of the football and the basketball teams. I never wanted anything more than to be friends with him because he was always such a close friend. I always knew he liked me too; I just never wanted to say anything because I knew it would ruin our friendship. After he graduated, I would catch Scott watching me from across the street after I got out of school. He would walk by my house five or six times a day. He was really into photography too, so he always had a camera taking pictures of my every move. I got freaked out to a point and just a few days ago I freaked out on him. I screamed at him and told him to leave me alone, that he was creepy and made me uncomfortable and I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. It hit him pretty hard and he would just glare at me when he saw me and try to avoid coming in contact with me.
We walked to the bathroom and opened the door – nothing. Room after room there was nothing but silence and darkness. We got to my parents room and found my dads watch lying on the ground covered in blood. There was a noise that came from my brothers room, it sounded like something had hit against hard wood. As I heard sirens approaching my house I made my way to my brothers door as my heart was beating out of my chest and I was sweating profusely. I pushed the door open as is slowly creaked and hit the wall behind it. The light was on, but it was completely silent. Scott and I whispered Jacobs name and he came crawling out from under the bed crying and hyperventilating.
As I cradled my brother in my arms, the sirens were now outside the house and I heard men walking up the stairs. My brother and I were both crying when the officers came in the room and gently guided us downstairs and to the front porch. We waited as for my grandparents to pick us up as a new police car pulled up every twenty minutes. By the time they arrived to get us, my house was infested with emergency response teams and detectives. Yellow “Caution” tape spread across the house blocking off the kitchen, my parents, bedroom, and the living room. My dads watch lay on the floor with a number next to it, indicating it was evidence. Some of the policemen pulled my brother away from me to question him since he was at the scene of the crime. He couldn’t speak any words because the crying had taken over his whole body and he was in too much shock to do anything but cry. My grandparents looked distraught and sick to their stomachs, just as we did. We didn’t even know if my parents were dead or not, they just weren’t there. As my grandparents spoke to the detective my brother and I waited in the back seat of their car watching the red and blue flashing lights hit the side of our house in a repeated pattern. We finally pulled away, and my grandma continued to try to talk to us as my brother cried and I stared out the window paying no attention to what she was saying.
After a week or so, the station called my house for my brother to go down and be questioned once more. All four of us drove down: my brother, my grandma, my grandpa, and me. The three of us waited behind the two-way mirror and listened as they asked Jacob questions.
“Hello Jacob how are you doing today?” said the detective.
“I’m fine,” Jacob responded.
“You don’t mind if we ask you a few questions do you? We want to find your parents.”
Jacob looked over to the two-way mirror and promptly turned away,
“Yeah that’s fine.”
“Let’s start at the beginning of the night just tell me what went on s soon as you got home.”
“I came home after school like I do everyday and I walked into the kitchen to get something to eat. My dad was yelling really loudly on the phone about some business deal, but I thought nothing of it since stuff like that happens all the time. My mom was making dinner while all the screaming was going on and I gave her a hug and she asked me how my day was. After that, I went upstairs to my room and did my homework, and then I played some video games. I heard glass break, but figured my mom dropped a plate or one of our fancy cups. She was making a really nice dinner since Charlotte made the starting lineup of the soccer team and my dad got a huge business deal. So I went back to my video game until I heard my dad yell. It wasn’t like his normal one on the phone, it sounded like he was in pain. I heard my mom screaming too and she ran to the bottom of the steps holding her stomach and told me to get back in my room.”
“Why did you hide under the bed and how did you know to do so?”
“My mom came running up the stairs and she was bleeding really bad. I kept asking her what happened and what was wrong, but she told me she would be fine and not to worry about it. At that point I knew I had to worry. She told me to get under my bed and not to come out no matter what. I knew I had to listen to her so that’s what I did. I was lying under the bed when she bent down and told me everything would be okay. I asked her where my dad was and she just kind of turned her head and ignored what I had asked. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew it wasn’t good so I did what I was told. Then she ran down the stairs and that’s the last time I saw her.”
“Did you hear anything or see anyone?”
“I saw someone come upstairs and check all the rooms. I could only see his feet, but I knew it was a guy, he steps were really loud and he was wearing black, heavy work boots.”
After the questioning, they brought in a line of men all the same size and weight. My brother stood with us behind the two-way mirror as they lined the men and made them turn side to side. They were all businessmen dressed in suits. I recognized a few of them, they were other clothing company owners and my dads “enemies.” My dad owned this huge clothing company, B&G Clothing Corporation, which I now own, and they were mostly all of his competitors. Jacob just stood there frozen and didn’t say a word. Choked up I yelled at him,
“Jacob say something you’re the only one who can help.”
“Charlotte stop yelling at me,” he said while tears filled his eyes.
“Of course I’m going to yell at you you’re being difficult.”
“Stop yelling at me, you weren’t there. You didn’t see how scared mom looked and how loud their screams were and how scared I was just laying under the bed and I couldn’t help them.” He was shouting now and tears were streaming down his face. I pulled back and stood their silent sniffling and wiping my tears with the back of my hand.
My brother was unable to identify the men since he only saw the feet of the intruder. The whole car ride home was silent as my brother and I looked out of the opposite side windows of the car with our backs facing each other.

Jacob and I sat in my office in silence. I looked over at him with his head tucked between his knees and his fingers linked behind the back of his head. I grabbed his arm and we both got up and moved to the box of belongings. One by one we pulled out “evidence,” that was now just our parents possessions. He rested his hands on my desk and leaned his head towards the floor saying,
“I really can’t do this right now, let’s get back to business.”
I agreed. I put all of the items back, closed the box up, and put it in a cabinet under my shelf set. I walked over to the window and stared at the New York City skyline, took a deep breath, and sat at my desk. I know I had calls to make to get all of the clothing made so backorder didn’t go any deeper than it already was. After I had made all of the calls I walked outside my office to where all of the cubes lay in a grid and it was less frantic. There were no papers flying, no phones ringing off the hook, and no people running rapidly down the aisles. Everything was calm. It looked like an office scene from a movie I had just watched. It looked almost peaceful. For once that whole day, I felt at ease.

My assistant Trevor came speed walking up beside me as I walked confidently down the hall towards the elevator. He babbled words that I had not been paying attention to. The whole time in the elevator and the walk to the front door in the lobby, I had not comprehended one word that Trevor had said.
“Trevor I’m sorry, I didn’t catch any of that whatsoever. Just leave me a list or a paragraph of whatever you just said,” I yelled to him as I walked out the front door.
I had to go home. I stood on the curb in front of my building waving my hand in the air to flag down a cab. I must have stood there for fifteen minutes while cab after cab drove past me without hesitation. I gave up and decided to walk home. That whole way home I couldn’t stop thinking of my parents. I just wanted to curl up and cry right there in the center of New York City. I couldn’t stop thinking of one moment in particular. I was walking with my head down and accidentally ran into to some man walking the opposite direction. We hit heads since we were both looking down and pulled back at the same time grabbing our forehead and making a face that was full of pain. He dropped his folders in his hands. I knew him. I have seen him before. It was Scott Wilson. This was the first time I had seen him since I was 17. I just stared at him looking confused as he was picking up his belongings.
“Scott?” I asked hesitantly.
He looked at me and opened his eyes wide. I knew it was Scott immediately because of his piercing blue eyes. He knew me too.
“Oh, Charlotte,” he said nervously.
“How are you!? It’s been what, eight years?” I said excitingly.
“Yeah, since your parents disappearance,” he said awkwardly as we both looked away from each other and at the ground.
“Yeah, I jut got the news today that they called off the case.”
He looked at me strangely and said,
“Oh. I’m sorry that must be hard.”
We talked for a while after our encounter. He told me how he moved to the city because it was good scenery for his next photography project. I told him about the clothing company and well things were going. We must’ve stood on the street corner for what felt like hours. We talked about my parents. He said how they always made him laugh and they were like a second set of parents to him; this made me get choked up, but I held back my tears and continued the conversation. I had glanced at my watch to realize the time and how late I was for a dinner date I had.
“Scott, I’m so sorry I have to go I didn’t realize how long I’d been here and I have a date,” I told him as I gathered myself.
He looked at me with a sort of angry face and said,
“Didn’t mean to keep you.”
He paused and then a look came over him like he had just thought of the most brilliant idea,
“Hey I’ll tell you what. How about you come by my place Friday night and we can just hangout and order a pizza and catch up just like old times.”
“Yes definitely I’d love to!”
“Great!” He said as he pushed his hands into fists and waved them.
“I really have to go, I’ll se you Friday!”
As I turned around and began to hurry down the street to “Belle Pase,” when I realized that Scott was wearing an army green winter jacket that had looked just like my dads. I turned around to check it out again, but Scott was gone. I shrugged it off and ran into the doors of Belle Pase.
“Ryan, I am so sorry I’m late I got caught up at work,” I said apologetically.
“Char, you’re fine it’s only been five minutes,” he responded with ease in his voice.
Ryan looks like a guy you would see in a Calvin Klein catalog. He’s tall, probably around 6’4” and he’s very built. He has olive skin and scruffy black hair with piercing green eyes. He has perfectly square teeth that are the perfect size for his mouth and the sparkle pearly white whenever he smiles. He sits across the table from me dressed in a very expensive blue sports coat with a red tie over his crisp white collared shirt. He has a gold Rolex on his wrist that he loves to show off, which I have called him out on many times. Ryan works on Wall Street and was in Forbes Magazine for “Best Looking Entrepreneurs in New York City.” I could stare at him all day, and never get tired of him. To top it all off, he’s a great guy: he’s kind, he’s smart, he cares about others, and he’s a gentleman. I sat there sipping my Chardonnay he ordered for me and just thought to myself, how did I get so lucky. Ryan and I have been dating since our sophomore year at NYU. We met in central park because we were both wearing the same NYU sweatshirt.
Belle Pase is the best Italian restaurant in New York City, and it has a waiting list that goes all the way to July of next year and it’s only November. Ryan probably used his charm to get the manager to squeeze us in. The walls are made of stone and the tables are solid red oak varnished over with a clear coat, assisted by two red leather chairs that peak way over a person’s head. The chandeliers are made of crystal and there is a dim twinkle that sparkled off of them. Vines and decorative grapes line the shafts in the ceiling and hang down in swirls. Towards the back of the restaurant there is a large red oak bar with glass shelves full of different types of alcohol. In the middle of our table there is a crystal bowl with a pink candle floating in the middle and small stones resting on the bottom.
The whole time sitting at the table I couldn’t stop thinking about the package I got today and running into Scott and how ironic it was that it all happened on the same day within a few hours. I knew I had to tell Ryan what happened, but I was afraid of what he would say.
“Ry,” I said hesitantly.
“Yes?” he responded seeming a little worried.
“They called off the case. I got the package today when I walked in the office. They sent me back all of the evidence items and an apology letter.”
“Char I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t really know. I don’t even know if there’s anything I can do. I just can’t believe it’s actually happening. I knew it would, but at the same time I didn’t.”
Before he could respond, something came over me. I had an idea that seemed way out of the ordinary and almost unrealistic.
“I’m going to find them myself,” I said confidently.
Ryan laughed for a little in a joking way only to look over and realize that I was serious.
“You’re not being serious, are you?”
I looked at him with a perfectly straight face. I could do it I know I could.
“Charlotte, you can’t just go all around New York and find your parents. There’s a process and obviously it didn’t work. If the cops couldn’t do it I don’t think you can.”
He had realized what he said offended me as soon as I grabbed my purse and started to stand up.
“Charlotte, come on you know I didn’t mean it like that.”
I got up and calmly pushed in my chair even though I was full of anger. I sarcastically smiled at him and pushed the glass door and walked out as he watched me leave.

My apartment door is a big black door with lines of glass that you cannot see through. There’s a silver doorknob with a keyhole and a code just above the knob. The door is extremely heavy so I have to push my entire body into it to push it open. I walked into the loft and immediately made my way to fridge. I hadn’t eaten since lunch because I waked out on Ryan at dinner. The only thing in my entire fridge was a bottle of orange juice, a bag of tomatoes, blueberries, and a head of lettuce – all of which sound completely unappetizing. I turned the corner by the kitchen to find Jacob sitting on my living room couch with a pizza on the coffee table and the Cleveland Cavaliers game on. He was leaning forward with his elbows rested on his knees and his fingers interlocked. He stared at me with his lips pursed together and his eyebrows raised. He looked like he had just received bad news. I kicked off my heels and let them lay under the barstool in my kitchen and lazily walked toward Jacob swinging my arms like a child. I plopped down next to him on the couch and turned the volume of the game down. He leaned back and I could see tears starting to form in his eyes.
“I think mom and dad are dead,” he said to me his voice shaking.
“They aren’t dead I’m sure of it.”
I paused for a moment and then said,
“I’m going to find them on my own.”
Jacob looked at me with shock and disbelief. I knew by the looks of him he thought I was crazy. He continued to stare at me until I uttered,
“I’m serious Jake. You can help if you want, but I’m really going to try.”
“How are you going to do that Char? You have no leads. You have no information. You have nothing to conduct an investigation.”
“I can work off of what the police told us before and I have some of my own.”
Jacob sat at his spot on the couch and cupped his hands around his mouth. He was thinking whether or not this seems realistic. Could we both actually find our parent even when professionals such as the police and FBI couldn’t? All of the silence made me think of it too. Could I actually find my parents? Are they even alive? I knew I had to be positive and confident that they could be found.
“Jake you know we can do this. We’re smart enough and we were closer with them than any of the police or detective was. They’re just using tactics; we’re their children. It’s different,” I said to him positively.
“Charlotte just let it go!” he was yelling now, “You can’t keep doing this. You just have to let it go. They’re gone and they aren’t going to be found. You can’t find them just let it go.” Jacob was crying and yelling. He slammed the remote on the floor and got up grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch. I watched him stomp to the door and slam it closed behind him as he left.
I picked up the remote and turned off the TV.  I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine I sat on the couch in silence resting my head on the palm of my hand while my elbow sat on the top of the cushions.
I was trying to think of any people who had issues with either one of my parents. The only person I could think of was one of my dad’s competitors, who is now mine, Fred Heisen. Fred had it out for my dad; he would call the newspapers, the local news station, and all of the big time magazines to spy on my dad because he was embezzling money or having an affair. He would create stories about my dad that would make cover news. He almost ruined my parent’s marriage until my mom realized it was all a big lie in order to obtain more business to Mr. Heisen. Heisen now tries to make up these stories about me, but it doesn’t work anymore because everyone began to realize he was a phony trying to beat out his competitors. Right about the time my parents went missing, business started booming for Heisen. It was rather strange and the police refused to believe he had anything to do with it, but my grandma and I had different ideas.
There was a knock at my door while I was writing down all this information about Fred Heisen. It was three loud knocks and I could see through the glass the silhouette was a rather large figure. I walked to the door and slowly opened it. Ryan stood on the other side holding a dozen white roses and an apologetic look on his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said to me with a pout on his face and his puppy-dog eyes.
I smiled and laughed then jumped in his arms as he walked inside.

It was Thanksgiving Sunday and football was playing all over different televisions across the United States. My entire family was pouring into my house as my dad and I yelled at them to be quiet because we couldn’t hear the game. The New York Giants were playing the Philadelphia Eagles and it was the biggest game of the year. The Giants had to win in order to be in playoffs. One by one the male family members found a seat in the living room surrounding the TV. I was the only girl sitting with all of the old guys like my dad, uncles, and grandpas, while all of the women were in the kitchen putting last minute things together for dinner. My brother and little cousins were all outside playing baseball and running around like typical little kids, and all of my twenty-something cousins were surfing through the liquor cabinet because our family was too much for them to handle all together. I could smell the fresh pumpkin pie along with the turkey and cranberries. Different dishes covered the counter tops of my kitchen. The volume on the TV was on full blast because it was so loud due to all of the people. As the clock on the oven wound down so did the clock on the scoreboard. The Giants had to make one field goal to seal the deal. My dad and I sat on the edge of our couch stomping our feet as a drum roll. Just as the oven timer went off and my mom yelled “Dinner!” the Giants scored their field goal and my dad and I screamed and jumped in the air like little kids on Christmas.
We walked into the dining room with more than twenty chairs lining the long glass table. Mashed potatoes, yams, cranberries, turkey, ham, and tons of other dishes covered the tabletop. We all sat down and began to dig in. My dad and I couldn’t stop looking at each other cheering and laughing. All of dinner we talked about how well the Giants played and how intense the game was. There must’ve been over 10 conversations going on at the table and the most important was the one I was having with my dad.
After dinner we walked back into the kitchen when my told me he had a surprise for me. He opened the cabinet and pulled out two tickets to the Giants first playoff game: one for me and one for him. I never got to go to that game with my dad. That day was my favorite memory with my dad.
After Ryan left, I sat on my couch clutching those tickets in my hand making a promise to myself that I would be able to see a game with my dad again. I had to find them.

I had made my way to West 14th Street to Scott’s apartment. I stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the Victorian building with black, cast iron fences surrounding it. I was just starting to get dark but the building stood bright in front of me. I pushed open the gate as it squeaked at the hinges. I strolled up the stone walkway and made my way to the front door which was glass covered in more black cast iron in the design of grape vines. To my left there was a call box with names labeled in gold lettering I clicked “323” that was to the right of “Wilson.”
“Hello?” Scott answered.
“Hey Scott it’s Charlotte,” I responded awkwardly.
“Hey come on up.”
A buzz blurted out of the speaker above me as the door unlocked and I walked in. I made my way into the granite lobby that had a brass table in the middle with flowers of blues, pink, and greens. A glass chandelier hung from the ceiling with a gold chain linking in a circle around it. It looked like the entrance it a museum. I made my way up the stairs, which sat on the left of the lobby and admired the African Padauk railing with black cast iron posts. I slid my hand along the railing and up the stairs until I reached the third floor. In front of me a sign sat on the wall that read “301-323 left, 324-346 right.” Scott’s apartment was the last one at the end of the hall. I reached the door, took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The door opened and Scott stood there smiling and welcomed me inside. He looked really good, no messy clothes that he always wore rather nice slacks and a collared shirt. His brown hair was slicked back and his beard was cleanly cut. His piercing blue eyes looked into mine and I my heart rushed a little. Did I have feelings for Scott Wilson? The Scott Wilson who used to creep me out?
His apartment was neat and organized, almost picture perfect. It looked like it would be in a catalog for home improvement that you find at a store like Home Depot. His floors were dark oak and his furniture was perfectly white. Everything on the shelves was lined perfectly straight and magazines lay on the coffee table like a waiting room. Scott stood behind me and watched me admire his perfect home.
“Do you like it?” he asked with a smile on his face.
“Yes I love it, it’s beautiful,” I responded completely serious, while still looking around.
After Scott had finished showing me his apartment we sat in his living room and turned on the TV. Highlights from the Giants game earlier in the week popped on the TV. That means Scott was watching ESPN recently, just like I do. The doorbell rang and Scott said,
“That’s the pizza, I’ll be right back.”
I pulled off my shoes and brought my legs onto the couch and wrapped my arms around my knees. I grabbed the remote and began to click through the channels until I found “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” on ABC and left it on. Scott finally walked over with the pizza and I could smell the melted cheese on the freshly baked bread as my mouth began to water.
“So how’s Jake I haven’t seen him for a while?” Scott asked while shoving his mouth full of cheese pizza.
There was something different about Scott from when I ran into him on the street. It’s almost as if he completely changed over the span of 48 hours.
“He’s good. He’s at NYU right now in his first year and he helps out at the office here and there,” I said partially laughing from how fast I just that piece of pizza.
As we were sitting there talking, Scott’s cell phone blasted Beethoven as a call was coming through.
“I’ll be right back,” Scott said as he wiped his hands together and stood up.
He walked into the kitchen behind the wall while pulling out his cell phone and I helped myself to another piece of pizza. As I was reaching into the box I noticed something sitting under the chair. It was army green and peaking out the left side underneath the chair. I stared at it for a little and then decided to reach under and grab it to see what it was. I held it up in front of me and I realized it was the coat that Scott was wearing the day I ran into him in the street. It looked just like my dads jacket that he wore almost all the time. My dad’s jacket had a white paint stain on the wrist of the sleeve. I grabbed hold on the sleeve and looked at the wrist; there was a white paint stain. My heart began racing and I could feel the sweat beating down the sides of my face. I immediately called Jacob.
“Jake, Scott has dads old jacket. You know the green one with the white paint stain on it? I just found it under the chair in his living room,” I said frantically.
“Charlotte slow down what are you saying?”
I heard Scott hang up the phone so I hung up as quickly as I could. I stood up gripping the jacket in my sweaty palm as Scott was just walking back into the living room. I turned around holding the jacket and Scott stared at me with a blank expression. He was shocked and I was angry.
“What is this?” I asked him with anger in my voice.
“My jacket,” he answered calmly.
“Scott this is my dads jacket it has the exact paint stain in the exact same spot. Tell me where you got this and how you got it right now.” I was yelling now.
I couldn't believe that Scott had actually taken my dads favorite jacket. Was he a part of my parents missing? Questions were flying through my mind and Scott became my prime suspect. I began to run to the door carrying the jacket with me when I shouted,
“I’m calling the police.”
“Charlotte your dad gave this to me. You were there when he gave it to me,” he said with his hands in the air as he yelled towards me running to the door.
I did remember. I stopped in my tracks and dropped my arms. I slowly turned around and started to walk back to the couch. I lowered the jacket and looked at the ground nervously. I was embarrassed.
“I’m sorry I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I said apologetically, “I guess it’s just this whole situation. I just don’t want to accept that it’s actually over.”
“Char it’s fine I get it you’re upset, and you’re trying to find something that will change the case, but it won’t. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you need to. The case is closed,” Scott replied sorrowfully, “Can I make you a cup of tea?”
“Yeah that would be great.”
Scott walked back into the kitchen as I sat on the couch with my head in my hands. I heard him turn the faucet on and let it run for a while to let it get hot. He walked back in carrying a light blue mug with whit paisley designs on it and a teabag string hanging out the side. I lifted my head revealing my makeup running down my face from crying and my hair sticking out at all angles as if I just got electrocuted. I slowly sipped the tea then set the mug on the coaster lying on the table and looked up to Scott and smiled.
“Thank you,” I said as I got up to hug him.
I began to feel dizzy as I stood up and everything was a blur. It looked like the whole world was in slow motion and spinning in a circle. Scott stared at me as I wobbled towards him and I collapsed toward the floor. After that the whole room went black.

I woke up this morning to the familiar feeling of my fur blanket and the sound of the same chirping I hear every day. The sun was peaking through my long white blinds in a line of brightness. It was shining right towards my face so I put my hand up to block the sun out of my eyes. I rolled over in my bed and the first thing I realized was how bad my head was pounding. I kicked my feet out of the warm covers exposing them to the cold and walked into my bathroom. I flicked on the light and opened the medicine cabinet. I looked left and right between the bottle of aspirin and my prescribed medication for my nightmares that I haven’t taken for almost two years now.
I had a nightmare last night though. I was a little girl about six years old and I was being carried in the cold winter night. I couldn’t tell who was carrying me because my vision was blurry. This person carried me deep into the woods and then I was trapped in a dimly lit room. The walls were made of cinder blocks and I was crying. I was holding this teddy bear my grandma had bought me when I was just a baby. My ankle had a chain around it that was connected to the floor. Then a spot of light appeared above me and the sun blinded my eyes. Scott came rushing in with a pair of pliers and broke the chain free then carried me out into the daylight where cop car, ambulance, and fire truck lights surround me. My vision was a blur but I could make out my parents running towards me crying and that was all I remembered.
I couldn’t believe that I had a nightmare. It’s been almost two years without them and all of a sudden they are starting up again. Maybe it’s because of the package I thought; it’s probably getting to my head. I decided to read for my medication and popped off the cap. I always thought the blue capsules looked just like mike’n’ikes. I turned on the sink and filled my small glass that sits next to my toothbrush. Two pills sat in the palm of my hand while the glass was gripped in the other. I looked in the mirror and leaned my head back as I brought the pills to my mouth. I couldn’t believe I had to go back to the medication. I stared in the mirror for a long while before walking back into my room only to realize it was 9:00 and I was unbelievably late for work. I ran outside and stood on the curb in front of my building trying to flag down a cab since my driver had left. He’s definitely getting fired. I started running down 8th Avenue until I reached my building in the center of Manhattan. I sprinted to the elevator just squeezing my way through as the doors were closing. I had no shoes on and I was sweating from running so fast. I looked around as all the people dressed in nice suits stared at me in my bare feet and ecstatic hair. I politely smiled and rushed off as the elevator dinged on my floor. I walked into the glass doors in the middle of the meeting my brother was conducting since I had decided to sleep in. They all sat quietly and stared at me, as I stood frozen at the doors. I smiled and took a seat away from everyone at the end of the table and slid my shoes on as Jacob said,
“As I was saying…”
I can’t believe I was late.
After the meeting, Jacob approached me,
“Charlotte, where have you been? You missed almost the entire meeting,” he said angrily.
“I’m sorry I overslept and I didn’t mean to. I don’t know why my alarm didn’t go off,” I said as if I were annoyed.
He shrugged it off and we both walked to my office. As I was looking in the mirror inside my closet fixing my hair and doing my makeup, Jacob looked over to me and casually asked,
“How was Scott’s last night?”
I peaked my head out the side of the closet and looked at him confused.
“Scott’s? I don’t remember going to Scott’s?”
He looked at me more confused than I was,
“Char you called me last night while you were there and you were freaking out. I couldn’t understand what you were saying until I finally caught it. You said that dads old green jacket with the paint stain was under Scott’s chair, but you hung up too quickly for me to ask you what you were talking about.”
I looked at him even more confused than I was before. I didn’t remember any of that. Did I actually go to Scott’s house? I shrugged it off and said,
“I probably called you in my sleep because I had a nightmare last night.”
He looked at me worried,
“Again? I thought you weren’t having those anymore.”
“I wasn’t, but I all of a sudden had one last night. It’s fine I took my medication so I think I’ll be okay,” I said as I just finished putting lipstick on.
That whole day while I sat in the office I tried to remember what happened last night. I moved to my couch after I had finished my work and just sat there for a while. Then it hit me; everything was coming back. I remembered what happened.
I went to Scott’s last night and I found my dads jacket under the chair Scott was sitting in. I remember yelling at him and then he convinced me that my dad gave it to him. No he didn’t. I thought he did, but he didn’t. My dad was wearing that jacket the night my parents disappeared. Scott gave me a cup of tea to calm my nerves and I don’t remember anything after that. I think Scott drugged my tea. I knew he was hiding something, but I just needed to figure out what.
I was going to break into his apartment.

I felt like I was sitting in the office for hours, when it had only been 30 minutes. Trevor walked through the doorways with his black earpiece on and a blue clipboard in his hand. He was murmuring something, but I had completely floated off. The whole time he stood in the doorway talking I had been staring at a plant right to the left of him. The leaves poked out in all different directions and had points on the end. In the middle of the jumble of leaves stood a red, pink, and orange bunch of flowers. It looked very tropical and reminded me somewhat of lemonade. While, admiring the plant I couldn’t help but plan my break-in. I had been watching Scott’s apartment for a few days to check the times he leaves and then arrives back home. I usually stand off the corner across the street in the disguise of an older woman. I have the big black sunglasses, the pink lipstick, the scarf wrapped around my head, a long flower-printed dress, and a cane I use as I pretend to walk with my back hunched over. I had made friends with his neighbor Mrs. White who had asked me to go to her apartment and play cards and make cookies for her grandkids. I would plan to leave her house early claiming that I forgot to stop by the grocery store. I know how to get through a lock without a key, from previous practice. I had to get in there, and it would all happen tomorrow.
“Hello! Ms. King!” Trevor said to me in a sarcastic voice while waving his hands in my direction. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
I looked at him with an innocent smile and he huffed in a gasp of air then groaned,
“I said that Mr. Heisen called today and he wants you to be at an emergency conference at one o’clock. I suggest you leave now because there was an accident,” he said with attitude.
I dropped my head on my desk making a small thud and groaned as Trevor looked at me with his lips pursed and rolled his eyes as he walked out of my office. I picked up my head as my hair fell in front of my face and lackadaisically grabbed my brown leather briefcase and shoved my chair out front under my desk and stood up. I shuffled out of my office and to the elevator the whole time thinking about how I would plan to break in to Scott’s building.
Last night I had another nightmare, the same nightmare I’ve been having since I was seventeen. Where Scott had attacked my parents and chased me up the stairs. I’m beginning to feel like this so-called “nightmare” isn’t a nightmare, but maybe a memory. I’m probably overthinking it as usual.
I arrived to the Heisen building about ten minutes early just as I had planned. I stood outside the building as people passed by murmuring words into their cell phones and I just stared up at the big glass building in front of me. It stood seventy-five feet tall and was completely covered in glass. The corners were coated in a gold metallic material and shimmered in the sunlight. The front of the building had cleanly cut hedges and a revolving door sat in the middle spinning in circles. I took a deep breath in as my chest puff out and walked inside. Chandeliers covered the ceiling and the main lobby was crowded with people in suits and dresses. I stepped into the crowded elevator and walked off as it dinged in the 75th floor. I stood at the front desk for about ten minutes before the lady with a brown nest on her head smirked and said,
“Can I help you?”
“Yes my name is Charlotte King. I believe Mr. Heisen called my office for an emergency meeting?” I said confused.
Her fingers clicked against the keys as she typed at a rapid speed and opened up the schedule for the day. She jumped a little and exclaimed,
“Oh right here. You can go on back to the conference room Mr. Heisen should be waiting for you in there.”
I shook my head in thanks and made my way through the glass doors with brass handles. Mr. Hesien is a strange guy: he’s big and tall with spikey gray hair, he always wears a navy blue or black suit with a red tie, his glasses are square with a thick, black outer rim, he has one of those celebrity smiles where you think you almost see a sparkle off his pearly white teeth, and wears a big gold Rolex on his wrist which is the first thing you see every time you shake his hand. I walked to the back of the office and saw Mr. Heisen sitting by himself at the head of the table with no papers in front of him and his legs crossed as he checked the time on his watch. I pulled open the glass door grabbing Mr. Heisen’s attention,
“Ahh Ms. King please come sit,” he said as he gestured to the chair right next to him.
I smiled politely and slowly sat down on the black leather chair. He was just stared at me smiling with his fingers interlocked at his knee. I smiled back and he could tell I was confused.
“I bet you’re wondering why I brought you here aren’t you?” he said with a thrilling smile.
“Yes,” I said politely.
He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward looking at me losing the smile,
“I understand through the grape vine that the FBI has officially called off the case on your parents. Despite the confrontation your father and I had due to our clashing businesses, I still considered your parents dear friends of mine. I just wanted to let you know I am truly sorry and I want to call off this feud once and for all. I just wanted to see how you were dealing with everything and how you’re feeling”
I was confused to say the least. There was nothing more Mr. Heisen loved than a good old competition. Why did he all of a sudden want to turn the tables and make amends?
“Thank you for your sincerity, and I’m doing fine, but I’m curious; what made you want to settle the constant rivalry I know there’s nothing you love more than competition so why now?” I said curiously.
“You see Charlotte, I’m getting tired of it to be honest. It’s been going on for years now and I just don’t see the point in it anymore. Both of our companies are equally successful and there’s no point to competition anymore,” Mr. Heisen said apologetically.  “Plus your father was more fun to compete with anyways,” he said jokingly.
I was growing suspicious. Mr. Heisen and my dad never got along and my dad hated him. Heisen said him and my father were friends, but they were never friends. At those big galas downtown where they forced to shake hands for a photograph made my father want to cringe. They would exchange hateful words right after too and my dad would return to us and say,
“Damn I really hate that guy.”
I had to confront this man, he was lying right to my face.
“Mr. Heisen I appreciate you trying to do this, but you and my father were never friends. I watched you at all of those galas and heard you exchange those hateful words there is no way my father liked you and there is no way you liked him. So tell me, why did you really call me here?” I said as I leaned forward and squinted my eyes looking suspicious.
He began to laugh revealing his sparkling teeth,
“Look kid I’m trying to make amends take it or leave it. I was checking in to see how you were doing,” he said as he leaned in towards me.
“Amends for what?” I fired back.
He bit his bottom lip and looked flustered. I knew he was lying on the spot. We were having a stare down and our stare was broken just as the lady with the nest on her head walked in. We both whipped our heads in her direction as she said,
“Mr. Heisen, Tom Senich is here for the1:30 meeting and he’s growing impatient.”
Heisen looked back at me and smirked. He slapped his hands on his knees and stood up as he said,
“I’ve got to go, take care.”
I was left speechless standing in the empty conference room with my teeth clenched. I couldn’t figure out what Heisen would have wanted to make amends for. What was he hiding?

We’ve been sitting in the airport for what felt like hours. I have never been so tired in my entire life. Jacob was leaning over his suitcase sound asleep and my mom sat next to me reading a book. My dad was pacing down the aisles of seats in the airport on the phone once again. We had missed our flight and the next one wasn’t for another two hours. We would’ve been in Florida by then, but the power went out last night so none of our alarms went off. We were heading to Miami for a week getaway during the school year because my dad had to go on business so he suggested we make a vacation out of it plus it was going to be Jacob’d 10th birthday getaway. It just so happened that Mr. Hesien was traveling at the same time as us so we ran into him in the airport. We were just about to board our plane when we ran into him. He was dressed in a black suit with a red tie. He had a Bluetooth in his left ear and he was mumbling something before he promptly tapped the device and hung up. There were other men surrounding Hesien resembling the secret service. I looked over and I could tell my dad wasn’t too happy to see that man.
“Well if it isn’t James King,” he said smirking, “Isn’t is such a coincidence running into you at the same exact time in the airport getting on the same plane!”
Fred Heisen was attending a convention in Mexico and he had a flight layover in Miami. I could tell how irritated my dad was just by the look on his face. I was surprised that I didn’t see smoke coming out of his ears.
“Look Fred, I don’t want there to be any trouble just mind your business and I’ll mind mine,” my dad said innocently yet with rage in his voice.
Fred Hesien chuckled and waived his hand in response,
“I’ll see you soon King,” Fred said sarcastically.
Before boarding the plane, Mr. Heisen walked to my dad, leaned in toward his left ear and whispered something. As my dad puffed out a large breath to calm his nerves while clenching his fists, Mr. Heisen smacked his palm on my dads shoulder and laughed. Heisen walked down the walkway and disappeared into the plane.
“Jimmy, what did he say?” my mom asked nervously.
“Don’t worry about it he’s worthless,” my dad responded angrily.
My dad started down the walkway to board the plane and I was right behind him follow by my brother and then my mom. My dad was dragging his suitcase on wheels behind him and I saw that one of the front pockets had something sticking out of it. The zipper was three-quarters of the way closed and the small part that was open had what looked like a piece of paper. I reached down and pulled it out of my dads bag; I was right, it was a piece of paper. I opened up the folded and crumpled piece of loose-leaf by each small fold until the paper opened all the way. “WATCH YOUR BACK. YOU’RE NEXT.” was written on the paper and big bold Sharpie writing.
“Dad! Dad!” I shouted, “This was hanging out of your bag.”
I handed him the paper very nervous and confused. He read the paper and looked up at my mom worried. I didn’t turn around to see her facial expression, but by the way my dad looked at her, I knew she had an idea. He shook the nervous look off his face and directed his attention back to me.
“Who wrote that and why did they write it?” I asked.
He laughed a little and responded,
“Don’t worry I’m sure it’s just a prank some kid is trying to play,” he said seeming not so worried anymore.
I was nervous and I know he was trying to make me feel better because obviously there was something going on that he didn’t want to have to tell me.
“Sir can you please hurry, we need everyone to take their seats,” the flight attendant called from the door of the plane.
Walking in I caught Fred Heisen making eye contact with my dad and laughing while shaking his head. Was the note from him? I had no idea I was more confused than Jacob who didn’t even know the note was found. We found our way to one of the row of seats in the middle of plane. My dad took all of our bags and placed them in the overhead compartments as my brother and I got comfortable in our seats. The blue material of the seats always made me so itchy and they were hard as a rock. There was really no way to get comfortable.
I remembered about two weeks ago one of my dads best friends disappeared out of the blue. He left behind a wife and a daughter. The police and most people in the neighborhood believed it was drug use, which led him to wander his way out of Ithaca. My dad believed otherwise, he knew his friend wasn’t into drugs he had too important of a job where they drug-tested. Later that same week Fred Heisen had made a comment about the disappearance, and he apparently was the last person to have seen my dad’s friend. I had no idea who had left the note, but it made me worried, and it was visibly obvious that it worried my dad. The plane ride all I could think of was what does “You’re Next” mean?

I was standing at the far corner away from Scott’s apartment so that he couldn’t see me. I stood behind a giant maple tree that sat on the corner across the street from Scott’s complex. I watched him for weeks to figure out his schedule and when I would be able to get into his apartment and have enough time to look around. Everyday Scott left his house at 5:15 PM and didn’t return home until 9:30 PM. I would see his light go off then five minutes later he would be casually walking out the front door whistling with his hands in his pockets. It was the same thing every single day and I watched him for weeks. I was dressed in my old woman disguise because I was meeting with Mrs. White tonight. It was about 5:10 PM when I wobbled my way over to the front steps of the building. Just as I was about to ring the buzzer to Mrs. White’s apartment, Scott came strolling through the front door. He was whistling again and jumped in fright at the sight of me.
“Oh, sorry ma’am I didn’t see you there,” he said in relief.
I smiled with my mouth closed and he held the door for me to walk through. As the front door clicked closed behind me, I turned around to make sure Scott was out of sight.
Once I reached the second floor I stood at the sign and read, “214-222 Left; 223-231 Right.” I made my way to the front door of room 220 and the door was cracked open.  I yelled her name through the opening receiving no response so I let myself in. I staggered into the apartment and made my way to the living room. There was no sign of forced entry and there was nothing out of the ordinary in the apartment. There was a flower-printed couch that sat against a wood paneled wall and the opposite wall was covered in windows that reached from the floor to the ceiling. The fireplace was on the right wall and small figurines lay on top of it. They were small glass bunnies, people, squirrels, and frogs. The living room was an open space into the kitchen, which looked like it belonged out of a 1950s catalog. The countertops were lined in metal and were a powder blue tile. The floor matched the countertops and the barstools were from the old diner that closed down on the corner of 8th Ave. The kitchen table was covered in a paper cloth with a paisley design imprinted on it. Above the table on the wall hung pictures of Mrs. White when she was young and with her family. I couldn’t take my eyes off of one of the pictures. It looked like Mr. Heisen but much younger. I shrugged it off and continued to find my way around the apartment. It was a rather large space, which seemed way too big for an old woman like Mrs. White. She was no where to be found so I decided I should leave since I would have extra time to snoop around Scott’s place. Mrs. White was old so I just figured she accidentally left her door open without even thinking.
I reached the third floor and found my way to the front door of apartment 323 – Scott’s apartment – once again.  The dark black numbers stared back at me as I took a deep breath in front of the door. I got down on my knees and examined the lock on the doorknob then pulled the Bobbi Pin out of my hair. I poked around in the lock with the pin and a cuticle trimmer I pulled out of my purse.
I’ve had experience with these kinds of things since after my parents disappeared I went through what you would call “a rebel phase.”
I poked around for about five minutes in the lock until it clicked and I twisted the doorknob allowing the door to smoothly open. I walked in to the familiar apartment and slowly closed the door locking it back up behind me. I began to dig through drawers in the kitchen and living room finding nothing but some utensils, a few deck of cards, some candles, and a occasional lighter.  I checked under the couch, chairs, tables, and TV stand and I didn’t find one thing. I walked into the small but neat bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, which was placed behind the mirror in a dark wooded frame: toothbrush, toothpaste, Aspirin, Q-tips, and a prescribed medication. I knew it was prescribed because it was in an orange bottle with a label around it that read, “Clozapine – Scott Wilson – 2 tablets per day.” Migraines, I thought, he used to get them all the time when we were little. Next was the bedroom. I clicked open the door and revealed an average sized room. The bed sat in the middle and had to of been a king size. It had a charcoal colored comforter and red pillows. A red suitcase sat open on the top of the bed packed fully with clothes. Why did Scott pack a bag? Two black dressers sat on opposite walls of each other and a nightstand on either side of the bed. The walls were white and completely bare. I felt like I was in a fashionable hospital room to be honest. I hesitated as to which dresser to go through first, and then I dashed to the one on the far wall. I began to rummage through the drawers of socks and undergarments, athletic wear, and sweat pants where I found nothing but an old CD from Bruce Springsteen. I moved on to the next dresser and just as I opened the top drawer I heard the front door click open. I clenched my teeth and panicked looking around the room for a place to hide.
“Yeah. Yeah. I know. I’m trying sir;” Scott was on the phone and it sounded he seemed to have pissed off whoever he was talking to.
I struggled to find a place to hide in the tiny bedroom so I settled for crawling under the bed. As I lay on my back on the dusty floor under Scott’s bed I realized I forgot to close the top drawer. I quickly covered my mouth to quiet down my loud breathing. I heard Scott shuffling around, opening and closing drawers in the kitchen as the metal utensils clinked together. He was swearing to himself but I couldn’t make out most of the words. He paced back and forth through the living room; I knew this because it was right outside the bedroom and the footsteps were too loud for them to be all the way in the kitchen. I looked to my right away from the door and saw what looked like a paper lying right next to me on the floor. I lifted it off the hardwood and gently wiped off the dust. I pulled it close to my face and out of the darkness; it was a photograph. Scott stood in the middle with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes squinted from the blinding sun. On either side of him were my mom and my dad. I looked at the picture completely shocked; when and where was this photo taken? I turned it over revealing writing in a thin red sharpie; “James, Lisa, and Scott – 1997.” I was confused because I didn’t think my parents became friends with Scott’s parents until a year or two after Jacob was born. The picture was an old Polaroid with red light leaks in the photo. The white trim along the outside was no longer white rather more of a dark cream with what looked like rust stains.
I was interrupted from my photo analyzing to Scott’s footsteps coming into the bedroom. I turned my head and saw the fronts of his shoes staring back at me. I jumped in fright and covered my mouth to hide any sounds. I heard the zip of the suitcase and watched the wheels clink to the ground Scott moved the suitcase to the corner of the room and walked out. I let out a sigh of relief only to see him reappear in the doorway. He walked over to the dresser nearest to the door and slowly closed the top drawer that I had stupidly left open.  I thought I was going to be able to make a run for it after Scott left again, but he didn’t. Instead he kicked off his shoes and grabbed them by his hand placing them under the bed just inches away from my face. Just then the mattress sunk closer in towards me and the springs squeaked. I waited an hour or so until I heard the soft snoring of Scott and rolled slowly out from under the bed. I slowly rose up from the ground, as my eyes were level with the bed to make sure he was sleeping, and he was. I slipped off my shoes and walked out the door on my tiptoes. I reached the living room and stepped on a squeaky board, only the noise was extremely loud. I heard Scott rustle in bed then his feet hit the ground. I ran and hid behind the giant fern in the corner of the room by his TV.  I peaked through the leaves watching Scott come out from his room rubbing his eyes and immediately go to the kitchen only to come back holding a an extra large steak knife. He searched the entire place, and then I saw him approaching the plant I was hiding behind. I slowly slid my back against the corner where the two walls meet and sat down behind the huge pot. I looked up to see Scott parting the leaves and jabbing the knife to stick in the wall. I covered my mouth to hide my loud breathing as sweat was beating down my face.  His hand pulled off the knife and minutes later I heard his footsteps getting further away and then the closing of his bedroom door. I looked up at the shiny, silver metal blade that still stuck in the wall above me. I snuck out from behind the plant and ran to the door as fast as I could until I was outside to where I could finally breathe again.
“Well that was a close one,” I thought to myself as I leaned my back on the wall outside of 323.

As I was sitting in my bed I began to think to myself,
“Am I overreacting?”
I found nothing in Scott’s apartment; then again I didn’t get to that last dresser. The only thing I had to work off of was that old picture that I had no idea existed. Maybe I was getting my years mixed up, or I just simply couldn’t remember. I stared at the picture for a while and then placed it on my nightstand shaking my head; I had a terrible headache. I walked into the bathroom and opened my medicine cabinet and popped some aspirin and my nightmare medication. My heart was still racing from the thrill and fright of last night in the apartment I couldn’t keep my composure. As I was walking back to my bed I glanced at the clock and realized once again I was going to be late for work.
I walked out from the main entrance and the sun was the first thing to greet me. I was walking with my head down texting Jacob to meet me at the office so I can tell him about my endeavor of catching Scott last night when Scott appeared right in front of me,
“Charlotte!” he said revealing his perfect smile.
I stared at him with a crooked smile and a little shocked until finally responding,
“Oh. Hi Scott,” awkwardly.
“Where are you headed?” he asked casually.
“I’m on my way to work,” I responded rudely.
“Do you mind if I walk with you?” Scott asked kindly. 
I nodded my head in response even though I really didn’t want to walk with him. I decided to straight up ask about the picture, but in an indirect way so that he didn’t know I was in his house last night,
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” he responded kindly.
I hesitated for a moment debating whether or not to actually ask because I was afraid he would get suspicious,
“When did you meet my parents,” I said as I stared at him with a firm look.
His eyes widened and he looked at the ground. He thought for a moment and then looked back up at me,
“A month or two before Jacob was born,” he responded questioningly, “that was random, why are you asking?”
I was confused. I thought they we didn’t meet their family until Jacob was at least one,
“I thought our family didn’t meet yours until ’98 or ’99?”
Scott once again opened his eyes wide and stared at the ground sticking his hands in his pockets. He took a deep breath and said,
“You were in the hospital that year when our parents met.”
What? I don’t remember that, was he lying? How could I have been in the hospital when I was there when Jacob was born? I remember sitting in a room with a hospital bed, because the waiting room was too full, waiting for my dad to come in and tell me that I can go see my new little brother. I looked at Scott confused and said,
“I was never in the hospital I remember being there for when Jacob was born.”
He looked at me with sorrow in his eyes. Was he trying to mess with me and make me worried and confused because it was sure as hell working?
“Charlotte you were in the psychiatric ward for a while after you were kidnapped, then they brought you to the hospital for check-ups and it just so happened that your mom was having Jake at the same time you were there.”
I was so confused and angry. How could Scott know more about me than I know about me? Why can’t I remember any of this? I couldn’t tell if Scott was lying or trying to throw me off so I had to get away from him, but before I could say I had to go Scott stared at his watch and blurted out,
“I have to go I’m so late. My boss called last night and I’m supposed to be leaving for Memphis at 200 PM. If I don’t leave now I’ll never make my flight.”
He started walking away from me then paused and turned back around. He wrapped his arms around me and said,
“I’m so sorry.”
Then he was gone.

Ryan made himself comfortable on the cast iron bench to left of the front door of my building. He could see I was visibly upset due to the makeup running down my face and the way I swung my arms and hung my head while I walked. He got up and looked at me with concern and supportiveness. By the time I completely just fell into his arms and burst into tears. I never cry, and the last time I did was when my parents went missing. So since I don’t cry, whenever I do it comes down in waterfalls and is way too dramatic then it should be. I caught Ryan by surprise when I fell into him knocking off his balance a little making it a really awkward standing position, but he didn’t mind.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay I’ve never seen you cry” he asked.
Between my long whines and loud sniffles I attempted to get some words out, but they only sounded like gibberish. People walking past on their phones, walking their dogs, pushing strollers, and even carrying briefcases all drifted their eyes toward my tantrum, while Ryan politely nodded and smiled hinting them to move along. I was embarrassed a little, but if he is going to be my boyfriend then he has to deal with these kinds of things.
He decided it was better off that I cry extremely loud in my apartment rather than on the public street and make a fool of myself. He carried my like a baby in his arms while I wept into his chest rubbing off my makeup and smearing his fresh crisp, white collared shirt. It wouldn’t be a big deal, he was able to afford the most expensive brand shirt possible and be able to buy twenty of them. He put me down on my gray cotton couch and I could hear him walk into the kitchen and rip off a paper towel and begin to gently wipe his shirt trying not t ruin the fabric. I picked at the fringe on my decorative pillows until Ryan came over and sat on the floor right in front of my face.
“Talk to me,” he said while grabbing my hand that was in a fist.
I knew I was going to eventually have to tell him, I just really didn’t want to tell him when I was this angry, but I did anyway,
“I just found out today that I was kidnapped when I was little and I was in the hospital for a year after and I don’t remember any of it,” I said angrily.
He looked at me oddly and made a strange face. He slung his head downward looking at the ground between his knees and took in a deep breath,
“Charlotte, I already know. Your brother told me a couple months after we first started dating,” he said sympathetically.
I burst into tears to say the least. I’m such an ugly crier and to do it in front of Ryan was embarrassing, but there was no way I could control myself. I let out loud belts as my face turned beat red and soaked with tears. Ryan, being typical Ryan, grabbed me and pulled me close to him as I cried into his shoulder. I couldn’t handle the thought of not knowing what happened to me; I had to find Jacob.

I was stomping through the doors full of anger and rage. I slammed the glass door behind me almost shattering the entire thing. The women at the front desk watched me in fear as I angrily made my way to my office. Jacob was waiting for me leaning against the windows staring at the unforgettable New York City view.
“Was I in the hospital for a year?” I asked straightforwardly.
Jacob looked at me more confused than I was,
“Whoa slow down sis,” he said with his hands held up as if I was pointing a gun at him.
“Tell me,” I demanded.
Jacob shook his head in disapproval and took in a deep breath,
“Yes. You were in the psychiatric ward for a while then you got moved to a regular hospital.”
Tears began to come out of my eyes and my voice was shaky,
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Mom and dad told me a couple of years ago they told me not to tell you because you didn’t remember and they didn’t want you to remember,” he said apologetically.
I dropped my bag to the floor and fell onto the couch.
“When was it?” I asked demandingly.
“They didn’t tell me when it was, but I know it happened,” he said with sorrow in his eyes.
How could I not remember something this traumatic that happened to me? I don’t know, maybe it was so bad that I wanted to forget so I did. Jacob looked over at me and asked,
“How did you know to ask me about this? How did you remember?”
I stood up looking at him with disgust and sniffled my tears away,
“Scott told me. Not you, but Scott.”
I was yelling now, really loudly, and I could tell because when I stormed out of my office everyone was peaking over his or her cubicle at my door. They immediately sat back down and I could hear the tapping of their fingers quickly over the keys on their computers. I walked out of the building and knew where I had to go next.

I appeared in front of the familiar building that belonged to Fred Heisen.  Only this time I didn’t sit outside nervously and admire the building to waste time, I stomped through the revolving door and immediately to the elevator. I got off on Heisen’s floor and whipped open the entryway door. I stormed past the front desk with rage in my walk as the women leaning over the counter yelled,
“Miss do you have an appointment? Excuse me, Miss. Miss…”
Their voices trailed off as I made my way into the room full of desks and cubicles. People stared at me confused as to who I was and why I was so angry. First of all, I was angry that no one told me I had been kidnapped when I had forgotten, especially my parents and my brother. Second of all, I was angry that my parents were missing. Third of all, I was angry because I thought Scott was behind all of this, but I realized he wasn’t. I just didn’t know what to and I knew I was about to embarrass myself, but I really didn’t care. I walked right up to the conference room and pulled open the door and stomped in only to realize Heisen was in the middle of a meeting. I paused in the doorway mid-walk and made my mouth in the shape as if I were about to say “oops.”
“I’ll just wait in your office,” I whispered towards Heisen.
I slowly backed out of the room mouthing “sorry” and softly closed the door. I walked to the back of the office floor and opened Heisen’s door. I paced around the room full of anger: standing up then sitting back down.  I must’ve waited for what felt like over an hour until Heisen walked in buttoning his suit coat. I turned to face him, but he was checking his watch avoiding eye contact with me; he knew I was angry. I stared at him with an angry look until he lifted his head and made eye contact with me.
“What a pleasant surprise,” he said jokingly and sarcastically, “for what to I deserve this lovely visit?”
“What did you do to my parents?” I asked angrily.
He looked at me and began to laugh.
“I am completely incapable of doing anything. Whether you want to believe it or not, your parents and I were friends until you came out of the hospital,” he said.
The hospital news again. How did he know about it too? How did he know that I knew?
“You knew too?” I asked.
Heisen looked at me like he felt sorry for me, like I was a small child. That same look I have received from three people already.
“Yes. Like I said, we were friends at one point,” he responded and I knew he was being serious.
Was I supposed to believe this man? The man whom my father hated so much? Who my mother couldn’t stand to look at? Who almost ruined my parents’ marriage and my father’s business? Yes. I did believe him, but I didn’t know why.
“Besides, that loony bin must’ve done some good for you. You were going off the deep end.”
That sent me off into a firing rage. I swung my arms across Heisen’s desk knocking over all the frames, paper stacks, a cup filled with pens, and a lamp. I kicked over the giant plant in the corner covering the cream carpet in dirt. I was screaming and crying. While I was throwing a fit, I hadn’t seen that Heisen was on the phone. I couldn’t handle all of this. I was standing at the bookshelf tearing books out one by one and throwing them across the room. Heisen came up to me and tried to grab my arms to calm me down, but I ducked and swung my fist right on the left side of his jaw. Heisen fell to the ground holding his face and I continued tearing apart his office. A brief moment after, I heard the door break open and men in white uniforms stormed in and headed straight for me. It was a three against one battle and I was going to lose. Two grab each of my arms and the third man held my legs. I was kicking and waving my arms as workers crowded around the doorway to see what the fuss was all about. Just then I felt a sharp pain on the right side of my neck. Then my vision went blurry, until the only thing I saw was black.

Four white walls surrounded me with light peaking through the strips between the blinds. Jacob sat in a chair in front me with his head resting on his hand; he was asleep. There was a singular lamp turned on sitting on the nightstand right next to my bed. The beeping of a heart monitor filled the room and an IV was placed in my hand. My left hand was handcuffed to the post on the side of the bed. My vision was still blurry and I couldn’t move my legs. I began to panic,
“Jacob! Jacob!” I called out.
Jacob lifted his head off his hand and looked around frightened with his eyes squinted until he rested on me fidgeting with the covering feeling my legs.
“I can’t feel my legs!” I panicked.
“Charlotte relax it’s the sedation it will wear off in an hour or two,” Jacob said reassuringly.
I calmed down and pulled the covers back over my legs. Just then, two men, one in a navy blue suit and the other in a lab coat, walked in. The man in the suit was carrying a manila folder that had “Charlotte King” written in black lettering. They were talking, but I didn’t care to pay attention to what they said.  They shook hands and the man in the lab coat promptly walked out. The man in his suit rested his hand on Jacob’s shoulder and murmured something and Jacob shook his head in agreement and left the room closing the door behind him. The man pulled a chair to the side of my bed as it squeaked across the tile floor. He sat down and looked at me; he could tell I was confused by the look on my face.
“Hello Charlotte I’m Detective Bodwell,” he said while reaching out his hand for a greeting shake, “I just have a couple questions if that’s alright with you.”
“What for?” I asked curiously, “and why am I handcuffed?”
“It’s just about what happened with Fred Heisen and things about your parents,” he responded leisurely, “it’s not my choice to have you cuffed.”
“To start things off easy, where were you the night of your parents disappearance?” Bodwell asked.
“I was out and I came home to my destroyed house and my mom and dad were no where to be found. I found Jacob under his bed and Scott came over after he heard me scream,” I responded.
“Why were you out? Wasn’t it a school night?” he asked knowingly.
“I was at soccer practice; we did have practice on weekdays in case you were wondering,” I said, “plus didn’t you close the case? Why are you asking me about this if you sent back all of the evidence?”
“We had an anonymous tip,” he replied.
“From who and what is it?” I asked curiously.
“It’s private.”
An anonymous tip? The case is closed why would someone send in an anonymous tip? Things were getting bizarre quickly and all at once.
“Next question –“
“I’m not answering anymore questions until you tell me what the hell is going on,” I demanded.
Just after that, Detective Bodwell stood up and told me he had to go question my brother now and I just stared out the window not watching him leave or saying goodbye. I just couldn’t comprehend how this was happening. I lay back on the bumpy hospital pillow and thought to myself, “why is this happening?” Mid-thought a knock on the heavy wooden door rung throughout the room. In walks Mr. Fred Heisen holding a bunch of pink and yellow flowers wrapped in green tissue paper and decorative plastic. He had a black and blue mark right wear I knocked him in the jaw. Covering it were small white strips of stiches and his face was swollen on the one side,
“Knock, knock,” he called out with his grimacing smile.
“Why are you here?” I asked rudely.
“Well I wanted to see how you were doing after you almost killed me.”
I kind of slung my head downward and my face blushed because I was embarrassed. I took a couple deep breaths and looked back up at Mr. Heisen as he grabbed my hand,
“Despite the public debut of our relationship, your father and I were very good friends at one point. I made a few bad decisions that destroyed that relationship and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life especially since I can never tell him I’m sorry. But, there was one thing he asked of me since we became friends; to look after you and your brother is something would ever happen to him and your mom, and that’s what I’ve been doing,” he said.
I looked at him weirdly because I had no idea what he was talking about, but I somehow felt safe with him,
“Your assistant Trevor? He’s my nephew. He’s been looking after you for me while I’m in the office. So yesterday when you stormed in all angry, I knew you had found out about what happened to you. I knew what to expect,” Heisen said supportively.
I trusted him. I knew he had to nothing to with my parents’ disappearance. He may have been under my radar for a while, but maybe it was because of his snide remarks and he all over demeanor. I could somehow tell he really cared, even though this is the first I’ve heard of any kind of friendship. I looked at Heisen and smiled and my eyes began to fill with water and I let out a small laugh. Just after that I somehow felt like everything was going to be okay.

I sat in that uncomfortable bed clicking through the ten channels on the TV over and over again, but the only thing I could think of was what could possibly be in that one dresser in Scott’s room that I never got to. The handcuff on my wrist was making me so itchy I was trying to find anything to pry it open and scratch away. I was supposedly being released today since the doctors finally figured out that I’m not insane, but rather overwhelmed and confused. Mr. Heisen did some negotiating and I was supposed to be on my way around three o’clock this afternoon. Policemen walked into my room right after I decided to settle for the cooking channel on learning how to make the perfect Thanksgiving dinner, even though it wasn’t Thanksgiving. Detective Bodwell was the last to walk in and he closed the door behind him. There I was, surrounded by five police officers and a county detective. Bodwell grabbed the remote that I just set down on the nightstand and pressed the big red power button turning the TV to a silent black screen. I looked around in confusion as Bodwell came over to me and unlocked the cuff off my wrist.
“Get dressed in the bathroom, we’ll wait here,” he said demandingly.
I got up without any hesitation or backfire, grabbed my clothes that one of the officers brought in, and walked into the bathroom closing the door behind me.
I pulled the water up to my face and rested my hands on the corner of the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. What could be going on, I wondered. I opened the medicine cabinet and stared at my pill bottle. I took my medication because I had another nightmare last night. It’s the same one every single time I have a nightmare. I only now realized that it isn’t a nightmare, but it’s reality replaying itself in my mind. The one last night was different though. I remembered everything that I had before: being carried into the woods, being trapped, Scott carrying me out, and my parents running towards me with fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars surrounding the block. I could never see who was carrying me – my kidnapper, but this time I did.
I remembered I had that picture with me of Scott and my parents that I found under his bed. I forgot that I hadn’t shown Jacob, and I knew I had to. I walked out of the bathroom to the policemen and Bodwell waiting for me. Just then two of the cops walk over to me and cuff my hands behind my back. I looked at Bodwell confused and he said,
“Charlotte King, you are under arrest for the taking of James and Lisa King.”
I looked around in panic. My face turned beat red and my heart was pounding out of my chest.
“How?” I asked, my voice shaky.
He paused for a moment and let out a small chuckle,
“We found a knife with your parents’ blood on it under one of the floor boards in your apartment.”
I looked at him completely shocked. How? What? When? He continued,
“We had a search warrant, we were obligated to go in the house whether or not you were home.”
I couldn’t believe this was happening. Then I was hauled out of the hospital and walked through the front doors to flashing cameras, and microphones being shoved in my face. Then I was on the way to the police station in the back of a squad car with Bodwell looking back at me from the front seat.
Jacob walked into the station and back to where I was being kept in the holding cell. They had taken all of my belongings off of me including my phone, watch, earrings, and the picture I found in Scott’s apartment. Jacob was looking around in concern to see where I was walking by each cell until he reached me in the last one against the wall. A sigh of relief fell over him after her knew I was okay. He looked distraught, like he had just gotten out of bed, which he probably did since in was six in the morning. He clutched the bars in front me and I slightly smiled at him as he had a look of panic on his face.
“Char, how did this happen?” he asked.
“Someone is trying to frame me. You know I would never do anything like this, especially to my own parents,” I responded convincingly.
Jacob just kind of hung his head in disbelief and scratched at his hair. I looked at him with my mouth dropped open,
“Jake you don’t really believe I did this, do you?” I asked confused.
“Charlotte, you haven’t taken your medication a lot lately and you went a little wild. I don’t know if it’s the whole package thing and the letter that sent you off or something, but you’ve been acting really strange.”
I didn’t know what to say. I knew someone was framing me whether or not Jacob believed it. I remembered the picture sitting with my stuff and that I hadn’t shown Jacob yet.
“Jacob go over to that desk and pick up the Polaroid sitting by my phone,” I demanded.
Jacob looked at me funny and then walked over and picked up the picture. He flipped it from front to back and waved it in the air looking at me asking,
“What about it? Why do you even have it?”
“Have you seen it before?” I asked curiously.
“Yeah it was in one of mom and dads old photo albums that they kept in the big dresser with the cabinet in the living room,” he responded casually.
I looked around to make sure no officers were watching or listening in then I leaned in close to the cold metal bars keeping me from Jacob and whispered,
“I found it in Scott’s apartment. I broke in one night because I know he has something to do with their disappearance. That night I called you about the jacket I found – well it was real. I searched the whole apartment and found nothing, but there was one dresser I never got to because Scott came home early.”
Jacob looked at me wide-eyed and said,
“You did what?” shocked.
Just as I was about to respond, I heard the click of Detective Bodwell’s Armani dress shoes and the set of keys dangling as he approached my “cell.”
“Let’s go King, you made bail,” he said while unlocking the barred door.
I looked at Jacob who shrugged in response looking just as surprised as I was. I ran over to the desk where my things lay and picked them up in a second and ran to catch up with my brother and the Detective.
“Detective Bodwell, if Jacob didn’t bail me out then who did?” I asked curiously.
Bodwell looked at me for a long while then sucked his teeth,
“We don’t know they called from a pay phone and dropped the money off outside. Generosity of someone anonymous I guess.”

I pushed open the door to my apartment and dropped my keys on the table in the foyer and hung my coat in the closet. Jacob followed behind me and closed the door slowly and carefully this time since he always slams it too hard. I walked into the kitchen and opened my stainless steel refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water and downed it in one big gulp. I felt like I swallowed a pound of dust in that dirty cell that probably hasn’t been cleaned for years. Jacob looked at me intently as I chugged a bottle of water and crushed the plastic after finishing it wiping my chin as water dripped down.
“Stop staring at me,” I said with heavy breathing.
He blinked quickly and looked away.
“Jake, I need to break into Scott’s apartment again.”
Jacob looked at me with more shock.
“How can you be so stupid? You seriously just got let out of jail,” he said.
“I don’t care. You saw the picture and you’re the one who said that it was in that old photo album. How do you expect that it somehow magically appeared in Scott’s apartment?” I asked convincingly.
Jacob kind of shook his head and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Yes I did say that, but you I think you’re taking things a little too far. Mom and dad may have given him the picture for all we know. We haven’t looked through that album in ages,” he said.
“Mom and dad loved looking at old pictures. They didn’t even like Scott after he they found out he was weirdly obsessed with me. In case you don’t remember we avoided the Wilsons for a long time. I don’t think they would magically rekindle by giving Scott a random photo.”
“I guess that makes sense, but I still think you’re taking things too far Char.”
Then I knew we had to. I held up my finger to Jacob gesturing for him to wait and I ran to the far corner of the living room and opened the tiny door that led to a large, spacious closet. I scrambled through reading over the black sharpie markings on each box: “Mom’s clothes, Dad’s clothes, Jewelry, Photos.” I reached quickly for the box labeled “Photos,” and dragged it through the maze of boxes and out into the light of the living room.
“Come over here and show me which photo album it was in,” I demanded of Jacob.
He slung his arms and walked over slowly and calmly. He bent down onto one knee and rustled through the box until he came across a navy blue felt book. It was thick and large and had a long hard binding. There were rust stains and some tears on the cover and the binding so you could tell it was old. Inside the pages were made of a white adhesive paper with a plastic layer over each to keep the pictures in place. We flipped through the pages until we reached one that had an empty spot. A tab on the right side read “1997,” which was the same year the photo of my parents with Scott was taken. I looked over at Jacob knowing I was right to see him wide-eyed and looking confused.
“I told you Jake,” I said meaningfully.
“Just because a picture is missing doesn’t mean it had anything to do with Scott. You want it to be him and I get you’re upset about everything that has happened recently, but Char, you’re taking things way too far. For god sakes you got yourself put into jail and I don’t even know if you were behind anything or not,” he said confused.
I looked at him in disbelief. How could my own brother turn against me? I slammed the photo album shut loudly and stared at the ground trying to contain myself from bursting in rage. If I panicked and started yelling I definitely wouldn’t gain Jacob’s trust, but I couldn’t have him here and not scream.
“You should leave,” I said.
Jacob chuckled a little and shook his head. He looked over at me and let out a sigh signaling he had given up on me. He stood as his knees cracked and he stared at me from above,
“Whenever you come to your senses you can call me,” he said supporting.
I stayed in the exact position with the photo album slammed shut in my lap until I heard the opening of the door and Jake’s footsteps getting further away until I heard the click of the door closing. I didn’t know whom else to talk to so I immediately called Ryan, and he appeared at the door within minutes. He walked over to me and rested his hand on my back and asked,
“Is everything okay? You sounded worried on the phone.”
I opened the photo album and showed Ryan the exact spot where the picture was missing, and then I showed him the actual picture. He looked at it with a smirk on his face then blinked quickly and looked at it oddly when he noticed me staring at him.
“What’s the big deal about this picture?” he asked confused.
I explained to him how I had broken into Scott’s apartment again and found the picture under the bed. Then I told him how Jacob had seen it before because it was in one of our parents’ old photo albums. I explained everything to him piece by piece and he agreed with me that it was really strange.
“I have to break in again Ryan, I have to. It’s the only way I’ll find closure. If I don’t find anything I’ll admit to being way over dramatic and crazy, but if I do find something, maybe it will lead me to what actually happened to my parents,” I said.
Ryan just looked at me with confusion and disbelief but said,
“Char do whatever you need to get closure I’ll back you up on it no matter what.”
I smiled and put the photo album back in the box then looked up at Ryan and said,
“I’ll do it tonight.”

I stood on that street corner just as I had the last time as stared up at the large apartment complex in front of me. The lights were dim and the sky was just darkening turning into nightfall. There was a light rainy mist so the space in front of me seemed to be occupied with a blur. There were not many cars on the road because of the storm warning that was being broadcasted all over the news. They suggested that everyone stay in their homes due to the violent winds, rain, and lightning that would hit our area in a matter of minutes. The storefronts were blackened with no light and for once in its history, New York City looked like a ghost town. As a gust of wind blew my black rain-repellent jacket from side to side, I stepped onto the wet pavement of the street and slowly and creepily began to walk towards the front door of Scott’s building. As I opened the cast iron fence I noticed a sign on the front door and couldn’t make out the words until I got closer,
“All residents please use back door due to technical difficulties.”
I peered through the windows on either side of the front door to see nothing but a dimly lit empty lobby. I walked down the stairs and made by way to the right side of the building. Large metal trash cans and black garbage bags filled the narrow, damp alleyway. I could hear the rustling through the bags of small critters searching for their evening meal. In the distance further down the side of the building almost at the end, I could see a light that sat on the wall above a set of stairs and a door. I approached the door in a small stepped jog to very carefully. The door was large, red, and rounded at the top. There were no windows on it and it was covered in rust stains. The door handle was a small what-used-to-be gold knob with no keyhole. I searched the brick lining on the outside for a call buzzer, but there wasn’t one. I reached out and twisted the doorknob jolting the door open with ease. It wasn’t locked?
The back stairwell had a green tint to it thanks to the emergency lights that were on each flat of a set of stairs. It looked like a staircase you would see in a parking garage. Every other flight I would pass a large plaque that sat next to a white door that read the levels of the building. I stopped when I saw a blue plaque with a white “3” on it and opened the door to expose myself to somewhat normal lighting. It was a lot quieter than last time. I couldn’t hear the TV of neighboring apartments or the babies crying and the dogs barking. There was nothing but silence behind my slushing footsteps. I stopped dead in front of “323” and gently pulled the hood of my jacket off of my head. I leaned my left ear against the door and heard nothing. I peaked in the crack under the door and saw no light whatsoever. I gently rustled with the doorknob to find that it was locked. Scott was gone just as I thought; it was about that time anyways. I pulled the Bobbi pin out of my hair and just as I was about to skillfully unlock the door the elevator dinged and I could hear the doors open.
I rushed to the hallway and peaked my head around the corner. There he was; Scott was walking down the hall whistling and scrolling through his cell phone. He seemed extremely casual. I could hear the clattering of his keys as he dug into his pocket and pulled them out to unlock his door. He turned his head looking the left and right as I stuck my head behind the wall so he couldn’t see me. Then I heard the slam of his door as he disappeared into the apartment.
I knew there was no way I was going to get in that place tonight so I softly but quickly ran out of the hallway and towards the elevators. A sigh of relief fell over me as the elevator dinged and I turned one last time to make sure no one was following me. In the blink of an eye a hard strike to my head completely blackened my vision and sent me falling hard to the floor.

I awoke in a painful daze. My head was spinning and I could feel the throbbing of the large bump that had formed on the crown. I still could not see; everything was black. I twisted my neck in circles trying to unwind the pain, but it only made me nauseous and dizzier. I could feel my hands tightly tied behind my back with a rope. In front of me my feet were crossed and also tied together. Then the black was lifted; it wasn’t my vision that was black, but something was over my eyes and head. I squinted my eyes and turned my face away from the bright light that sat right in front of me trying to avoid any further headache. When my eyes finally adjusted I jostled in my seat and searched around the room only to realize I was sitting in the living room of Scott’s apartment. My breathing got heavy and my heart started to race. I tried not to panic while wiggling around to try to free my hands and feet. I hadn’t realized that someone had walked and stood right in front of me until I heard light laughing. I stopped and my heart started racing even faster. I looked up and my jaw dropped as tears almost filled my eyes. No, it wasn’t Scott standing in front of me; it was Ryan. He was standing there in his Wall Street suit with his long coat, his arms crossed in front of his chest, and an evil grin covering his face from ear to ear. I looked at him worried,
“Ryan you have to get me out of here and we have to leave,” I said while trying to loosen myself free. Ryan just stood there and began to laugh. He let out a loud sigh and said,
“No Charlotte, we don’t.”
I moved my mouth about to speak, but no words were able to come out. This made Ryan laugh even more and he began to pace back and forth in front of me occasionally glancing over at me. He took a deep breath in after calming his laughing and began talking,
“Surprised aren’t you?”
I again couldn’t speak any words. Nothing would come no matter how hard I tried.
“You see Charlotte, you’ve been telling me about all of your theories after you received that stupid package. I was really hoping you just stick with Mr. Heisen, but you had to be too difficult. Then you went after Mrs. White so I had to get rid of her because the dumb old broad was going to tell you something.”
Before he could continue I interrupted,
“Who are you?” I asked disgustedly.
He looked at me for a long while and laughed once more. He stared straight into my eyes to the point where I had to look away.
“My name is Ryan Wilson and Scott is my older brother,” he said maliciously.
Once more my jaw dropped only this time to the floor. Just then Scott appeared from behind the wall of the kitchen. He walked out holding a dishrag in one hand and a large steak knife in the other. He gently wiped off the blade then looked over at me and shone his sparkling grin,
“Charlotte, what a pleasant surprise!”
He approached me and stood parallel with Ryan, his brother. Scott bent down so that his face was directly in front of mine until I could feel his breath,
“Maybe this time you’ll actually want to cooperate.”
“What is that supposed to mean,” I said angrily.
“Last time I tried this I had to ‘pretend’ to save you because you wouldn’t eat so you would starve to death.”
The nightmares were real. Scott was the one who took me captive in the first place. Tears filled my eyes and I said through the gritting of my teeth,
“What the hell did you do with my parents?”
He laughed and responded,
“You know how much they meant to me. They were more my parents than my actual parents. If I couldn’t have them, then no one could, so don’t worry I took care of them a long time ago.”
I spit in is face causing his creepy smile to wipe off his face. He backed away and grabbed the rag gently drying off his face,
“Well I guess you want this the hard way don’t you?”
Scott nodded to Ryan who smirked back and walked behind me. With a strong tug, he pulled my hair back until I was almost looking upside down. Then I felt the coldness of the blade on the side of my neck. A searing pain flew through my entire body as the knife began to break my skin. I felt the drops of blood dripping down and seeping into my shirt. Within seconds the windows surrounding me shattered and glass flew in every direction. Ryan and Scott both crouched to the ground covering their heads. Red laser beams covered the walls in front of me as men in black bulletproof suits surrounded the three of us in the center of the room. Their eyes were covered with night vision goggles and protective eyewear,
“Put your hands where I can see them,” one of the men in front shouted.
Ryan rose from the floor with his head held down, but his eyes peering up and slowly raised his hands in innocence. Scott was still crouched on the ground and slowly stood with his right hand reaching towards his back pocket. He quickly pulled out a gun, but the man in the bulletproof suit was faster. A bullet shot across the room and struck Scott’s right shoulder as his black, heavy pistol fell to the ground. Men in black swarmed Ryan and Scott knocking them back to the ground and cuffing their hands behind their backs. As the ropes were cut from my wrists and ankles I could hear the sirens approaching.
Jacob came bursting through the front door a greeted me with a sigh of relief. I ran towards him and jumped into his arms as tears fell down my face.
“Let’s just day I had a change of heart. I thought about everything you said and it all started to make sense. I kept calling you but it was going straight to voicemail and I know your phone is never off or dead so I knew something was wrong and I called the police,” Jacob said sympathetically.
I hugged him tighter and let myself cry into his shoulder. I could still feel the blood dripping down my neck as I reached to wipe it off.
“You need to get medical attention right now,” Jacob said worriedly as he yanked at my arm and pulled me out the door.
I sat in the back of the ambulance as flashing lights of red, white, and blue surrounded me. A bandage was wrapped around my neck to stop the bleeding. Just then I realized I never got to look through the last dresser in Scott’s room. I jumped up out of the blanket I was wrapped and ran back into the building until I reached Scott’s apartment breathing heavily. I weaved through all of the caution tape, policemen, and detectives until I reached the bedroom door. I looked around me and clicked open the door silently closing it behind me. I sifted through each drawer until I reached the last one. Sitting on top of a stack of folded jeans was a small blue book that almost blended in. I picked it up and opened it letting out a deep breath. My eyes widened as I flipped page after page. Pictures of families covered each page; a different one on every single page. With each held a picture of a map. About two pages before the last I saw a picture of my family. Next to it was another map. It was a map of the neighborhood I grew up in – Ithaca. I closed the book and quietly snuck back out of the apartment; I had to follow it.

I ran as quickly as I could for as long as I could until I reached the front door of my own apartment. I grabbed the keys to my car and ran back out not even locking the door behind me. As I drove for hours I couldn’t help but think if my parents were alive. Eight long years. What if Scott was only saying those things to make me want to give up? I had to find out. After about 4 hours I finally reached my old house. The sun was peaking over the horizon, as it was almost daylight. I sat parked outside and stared out the passenger seat window at the house that once held so many great memories. I interrupted my own daze as I reached into the back seat and grabbed Scott’s book of weird pictures and maps. I flipped to the page with my family on it and caressed my hand lightly over the picture and smiled seeing how happy we once were. I pulled on the handle and opened the door as a gust of cool air whipped across my face. I looked down at the map to see that it led in almost a straight line directly behind Scott’s old house.
It sat in front of me and looked limp. It was completely bare: there were no plants in the front, no flags, no curtains on the windows, and the railing that was once along the stairs was gone. I ignored looking over the rest of the house and continued into the backyard to follow the map. I walked over, under and through branches hundreds of feet deep into the trees. All of a sudden my next step was a step on a metal plate. It made a hollow noise, but was hidden beneath the leaves and weeds. I dropped to the ground and dusted across the plate clearing it to reveal a rusted metal sheet with a handle that was padlocked to the ground. I grabbed a small stump and continued to slam it against the lock until it cracked and broke. I sat there for a while just staring at the hatch in the earth and decided whether or not I was going to open it. What if I opened it and my parents were dead inside? But, what if I opened it and they were inside? I had to open it. With a heave I lifted the hatch and it slammed on the ground creating a loud boom. A ladder led down to a small concrete room with nothing it as far as I could see. With a lump in my throat, I scoped down the ladder until my feet hit the concrete slab below me. In front of me through the rungs of the ladder was a large metal door that looked like a freezer you would see in a restaurant. I unlatched the seven locks with my shaky hands and slowly released the handle and let the door slowly fall open
In front of me stood a long narrow hallway that curved to the right and was lit with dim lights. With the nervousness taking over me, I cautiously walked down the hall and stood before the turn. I gulped and took a step forward. I was greeted with a jump and a few punches until I put my hands up in surrender. I looked up to see my mom and my dad standing in front of me. They were skinny and dirty. Their clothes were torn and their hair was long and knotted. I looked at them with tears in my eyes and a smile stretching across my face. My dad fell to his knees and cried into the palms of his hands as my mom wrapped her around around my body so tightly it was hard for me to breathe. I dropped to the ground with my mom hovering over me and grabbed my dad’s hands. His wet face met mine when he reached around and hugged my mom and I tightly.
As we sat on the street corner waiting, more sirens and police cars than I have ever seen flew one by one down the street and came to a screeching halt in front of us. Jacob pulled up and jumped out the car before it even stopped. He rushed over and flung his body onto my mom and dad. Detective Bodwell walked over to me as I stood up from the curb and said,
“Well King, it looks like you didn’t need us after all. From the New York Police Department, we are truly, truly sorry.”
I smiled and hugged him not even knowing why as he lightly and awkwardly tapped my back after receiving an unsuspected hug from someone whom he thought hated him. I pulled back and began to walk towards my family only then to realize I still had Scott’s creepy book.
“Bodwell wait,” I said as I handed him the book, “I found this in Scott’s apartment. I don’t know what it is, but it’s definitely something.”
Tears and laughter overtook Jacob, my parents, and I. I have gained back the most important thing in my life – my family.



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