I Remember The Night When....

• Jessica Lane, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2010

It was October the 30th 1976, on my 13th birthday when my little brother went missing. My name was Sable June, just like the month. I had long blonde hair, blue eyes and I was average height. We stopped the celebrations straight away and started looking for him; we couldn’t call the cops because we had to wait for 48 hours until we can report someone missing, but we didn’t care, I had to find him now, he was my little brother. I remember repeatedly calling the police and asking them to help me, but they just kept saying the same response; “I’m sorry, but we can’t file a missing persons report until 48 hours have passed since they have disappeared”. I didn’t want to listen to them at all; I wanted to find my brother.
Father and I started making posters of him explaining what he was last wearing and how old he was and what he looked like, We had made fifty six posters before I got tired and decided to take them into the city and pin them up everywhere. My father came with me and was waiting outside in the freezing cold while I was in the grocery store asking the shop keeper whether they had seen my brother. “Please, have you seen this little boy? He’s six, his names Luke; he was last wearing jeans and a brown t-shirt with a black thick heavy coat.” I frantically told her. “No sorry, I haven’t seen him; I hope you find him soon, because it’s cold outside. I’ll put some posters up around the store if you want me to”, replied the shopkeeper. “Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you”, I replied. “It’s okay; let’s just hope we find him” Said the shopkeeper.
I walked outside, stuck a poster on the store window and walked off to the next shop. We stuck posters everywhere we could: On doors, garbage bins, windows, cars, the ground, anywhere possible for people to see and help look for Luke. My father said worriedly “Sable, It’s not looking good, it’s been nearly 3 hours and no sign of him”, “Don’t be so negative”, I said, “We’re trying to find him aren’t we? I’m not giving up until I find him, even if it means me not sleeping or eating for a week, I don’t care, and I’m finding Luke”. I didn’t believe or have trust in the cops anymore they refused to look for my brother.
We caught a taxi home and when we arrived Mother came running out of the house and opened the taxi door and was hoping Luke would be in there. “Is Luke with you? Please tell me his okay and you find him? Where is he? Luke! Luke!” Said Mother. Sable said “Mother, please calm down, no, we haven’t found him yet, but I’m not giving up, I am going to find him for you. Please, just come inside and I will make you a pot of tea”. So I made a cup of tea for Mother and Father, and started drafting up a plan of what we were going to do next, we thought of so many ideas but none of them would have worked.
It wasn’t until forty-five minutes later when we got a knock on the door from two police officers. “Hello, sorry to bother you so late, but may we come inside?” “No no, it’s okay. Please come in.” Said Father. “What is it, have you found him? Where is he?” I asked quickly. One of the cops replied “I’m so terribly sorry, but we have found a body that matches your son’s description under the bridge a couple of miles from here. We all started crying and Mother was yelling “No, this can’t be happening, NOOOO”. The police replied “You have to come to the station of course and identify the body. In case we have the wrong person”. “Sure, anything” Mother said quickly, “Just to make sure it’s not my little Luke”.
We all left the house in the police car and got to the station, as I was about to walk into the room, Mother and Father both stopped and said “Sable, we think it’s better if you stay out here”. I wanted to go in so badly, but they told me I couldn’t so I waited outside. I was watching by the door way, everyone crowded around the table to observe. I was standing on my toes trying to see, but I didn’t see anything except that mother’s head was nodding and father was embracing her while she broke out crying. I knew it was Luke, but I didn’t want to think so.
We went home that same night to a quiet dinner; it wasn’t the same without Luke, it was too quiet. We had the funeral at the church down from our house a week after his death. It involved flowers and a lot of crying. When we put him into the ground, I knew it was the end. I was grief stricken like you wouldn’t believe. I was devastated, distraught, sad, lonely, everything ever possible. Life would never be the same. It was the end.