The Missing

• Charlotte Bruce, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2022

It’s my fault he’s gone. I watch the officer pull a pen and scribble lightly on the paper, noticing the blue-purple veins running through her hand as she writes with such despair. I know I won’t forget the emotion flooded in her eyes that night…
Watching the stars roll over earth, I turn to see his face, counting each freckle perfectly placed beneath those soft hazel eyes. He doesn’t look, but beneath this summer blanket of warmth I know he notices me. ‘’I wanna go somewhere, do something” he says abruptly, and although half of me cringes at this cliché line, I get where he’s coming from. I lean in, falling into his comfort, just to feel those soft lips and his warm breath. ‘’Like what?’’ I reply curiously, but slightly more focused on the perfect fit of his green striped polo and tight coffee-stained jeans. ‘’I don’t know’’ he says, but I don’t give him much choice, “let’s play truth or dare’’, ignoring the confused look he’s giving me I quickly come up with an idea. ‘’You must venture into the woods”, I try to shake my voice and sound spooky. Gesturing to the big, open sea of trees I know I’m not thinking and may regret this. Jim’s an idiot though, he definitely wont care. Besides he’s already grabbed the nearest stick to carry into the thick bush.
I’m not going with him, he can go alone.
I think…
I’d check my watch if I had it on me, but I don’t so I estimate I’ve been here for maybe 2 hours. This is ridiculous, I’ve been in that wood before, and it certainly shouldn’t be taking him this long. I eventually give up and grab the nearest stick, heading into the tall swooping greenery.
Calling is useless, he clearly can’t hear me. But it’s getting dark and if I can’t see him under the sun I won’t under the moon either. I know I’m not leaving Jim. I think back to the phone sitting on my nightstand that would be really helpful right about now. Half an hour more with no leads, if I wasn’t worried before then I am now. My lungs begin to shrink, my eyes burn, my lips tremble and a fat, salty tear runs down my cheek and dribbles to the floor, then more come, until I’m on the ground in almost puddles.
My only option is to run back home. So, I do, barely catching a splint of air as my legs tremble weakly. All the weight of the world crashes down upon me, I cough and wheeze as my heart squeezes tight. Choking on my anger and fighting to keep up.
I watch the letters spread across the paper, though my brain won’t let me understand. ‘D E A D’ the letters read. And then my brain understands and my heart to begins to slow, pain gushing from my mouth and my eyes dripping cerulean tears. And it’s all my fault.