She was begging so hard the security had to escort her out. Her voice remained true, ringing in my head,

“Please, please, he’s got to be out there, just keep looking.”

That was Jonathan’s mother’s reaction to my decision to close the case. Two months with nothing turning up was enough time for me to realise it was a lost cause. Oh, right, I better give you the details?

It started 6 months ago, Jonathan’s story, but in Presorder, people go missing all the time.

My theory is that teenagers become so miserable with the lack lustre social clubs and horrific weather that they simply run away. Skip town.

I wished I could too, to tell you the honest truth. Presorder is one of the most sullen towns in North America, that’s a fact. The mayor moved away last year, that’ll tell you something.

Jonathan was 15 when he first started running away.

We estimate his hysterical mother would call into the station about once a week, blubbering that someone had kidnapped him or that he had been run over or some nonsensical story.

In reality he had usually snuck off with some friends to a party or to explore an abandoned building. There’s a lot of those round here.

Jonathan was no perfect angel like his mother thought he was. He wound up spending the night in one of our cells a lot towards the time of his disappearance. Yet, he was a good kid. Noisy, brash, rebellious, yes, but he loved his mom more than anything and was always very chivalrous to ladies, surprisingly.

So, when his mom called in in October, we all reacted the same. It still haunts me. She was like the boy who cried wolf. And this time the wolf had actually came.

I remember just laughing, in her face, at her desperation. Her blond hair was wild and unkempt. She used to shave her eyebrows and draw them on with brown pencil, but in her frantic hurry she’d forgotten.

I assured her he was probably just at some function, because I knew that my neighbour’s son was celebrating his birthday that day. I regret that now.

As you’ve probably guessed, he was not at that function. Jonathan was not anywhere.

At 7 o clock on the evening of the 23rd of October, he had left his house headed to his girlfriends in his black mustang, wearing bootcut jeans, Chelsea boots, a Rolling Stones t-shirt and his signature denim jacket, known by its zipper and anarchy symbol painted in red on the backside.

Him and that jacket were inseparable, and it was never seen again. You can work it out yourself.

The car did turn up however, but in the strangest way possible.

When we opened up the case, it was around two days after he disappeared. It was then we worked out no one had actually seen or heard from him, that he had vanished.

His mother was inconsolable. I distinctly recall feeling so awful due to the fact they lived in quite a large house, and Jonathan always had someone over or was blasting some heavy metal music, and I thought of how quiet the house must have been without him. My heart broke a little for her, I won’t lie.

Well, his mother was with us at the police station and being head of the case, I took all the details from her. By now her eyebrows were back in shape and she had seemingly pulled herself together.

They only had one lonesome car, the black mustang, and it was still missing at this point, so I offered to give her a ride home. You’d think with the humongous size of their house they’d buy another car, but in her words,

“Two cars? Walking is good for the heart. Anyways I like driving his Mustang. Makes me feel powerful.”

I laughed at that. Her image, that’s all she cares about other than Jonathan. Full face of makeup almost always, clothes the most expensive and in trend and her hair in a crazy up-do or slicked back. Not your usual mom, I’ll say that.

She shrieked her head off when we pulled up to the house. There it sat, Jonathan’s car parked neatly in the steep drive.

We both tore the house upside down looking for him. The keys were neatly left on the front step. No fingerprints, no evidence, just the car. 2 months with nothing, it’s enough.

Still, Presorder has its fair share of missing victims. Let’s just say, I’m not necessarily liked in this town, for that reason. I’m in charge of every one of them somehow.

There’s 6 in the last 6 years now. 4 girls, 2 boys, all under the age of 19 and over the age of 14. Teenagers.

If you can imagine, there’s utter hysteria over it. Every anniversary there’s a protest that the police should have done more, that we ‘failed’ them. I think those teens are living it up in Cali right now, but that’s just me.

What’s even stranger, each has not a drop of evidence to their names, except for one thing.

A personal item of theirs is always returned to their parents.

If you think the Mustang parked in the drive is crazy, Jennifer Tillage’s signature red lipstick was found in her locker the day after they cleaned it out.

Our first boy, Fred McLoughlin, rode this tremendously tall bike painted jet black everyday to school and back. When he went missing after a concert two blocks away from the station, his bike turned up tied up to the bike racks in the school. Again, no fingerprints, no evidence, nothing.

When you arrive here, you want to get out of here as soon as possible too. You’re running the risk, kid. From what I’ve been told, you turned 19 last month. Keep one eye open, I’m serious.

Your not safe just because your a cop.

Signed, Chief Stanley

The bell rang exactly on time, and the class errupted in smiles and laughter. I sighed happily to myself, packing my bag away as groups of people flooded out the door into the open hall. It’ll all be over soon.

As per usual, I was last to leave the class, but I liked it that way. I silently handed Mr Ronan a card, avoiding eye contact. I could tell he wanted to say something, maybe to reach out. I made it fast.

“Thank you, sir, for everything.”

I made a quick departure, ignoring his voice as I left.

The hallway was packed. Sheets of crumpled papers littered the floor, rows of students gathered at lockers, talking, laughing, planning meetings. Summer lights bounced off the walls and shone brightly down out the big doors. I was a bit jealous of them at the time, I always was.

I walked to my locker, opening it sheepishly. I threw everything left in it into my bag, not leaving a trace.

“Have a good break, man”

I turned, mouth agape to where I heard the voice. Tino was leaned against the locker next to mine, grinning awkardly, but yet his words still felt sincere. He for once had a concerned air about him. I never sensed that from him before.

I nodded with a small smile back, my head still bowed down as he stared into my eyes.

“See you next term, right?”

It felt so strange. Of all people I never would have imagined Tino to have noticed. To be honest I never even thought he remembered who I was.

Yet, he does always make an effort. To talk to me that Is. Even with all his gang and all the ladies at his side, the proud Tino would talk to me every single day at these lockers, even if I didn’t respond back.

This time I did.

Pulling out my old-school camera, I handed it to him, breaking our eye contact. I muttered so low I was almost covered by the sounds of the hallway.

“Here, I want you to have this. It’s old but It still works. There’s some film still left on it”

He just stared at me and shook his head, dumbfounded.

“No-no way. Your camera? For me?”

I nodded. He took it apprehensively, looking at me with a worried look. His hard fingers felt the curves and rough parts of it, and he gawked like a child with his new toy.

I brushed past him, walking hastily. I heard him call my name but I just walked faster.

I manoeuvred around the crowds of friends, all having fun together. The sound of trust and intimacy filled the atmosphere while I walked alone, head down and back slouched.

When I walked out those big doors I felt relieved, you could say. To people out here, I was just another face, just another human going about there life. Happy faces stumbled past me, arms linked around each others, kissing, loving, giggling.

Tonight. I’ll do it tonight. And this time, I won’t look back.

The staircase I stepped onto, I feared would cave in. The dark wood had grown furry mold, and seemed brittle.

I sighed in anguish. Of all people, why did it have to be me to go down into the basement. Maybe it was the funky smell, or pitch black darkness lurking at the bottom, but I absolutely hated the whole aura of that cellar.

I began to grow weary of carrying this massive cardboard boxes. Dad had thrown them into my hands to bring down, unaware they weighed about a ton each.

I felt red on my bare neck. I felt so hot, even though I was only wearing a pair of denim shorts and a t-shirt.

Taking the leap of faith, I put my first foot down. The stair creaked under my weight and I winced, taking the next step.

Squeaking all the way down, I made it to the bottom without falling through the rotten staircase ; luckily.

I let out a gasp of relief as I threw the boxes down onto the concrete floor, and pulled my flashlight from my back pocket. The likely hood that the lights in here actually worked was little to none.

The basement was relatively empty, a couple wood shelf’s hung limply onto the hard walls, a desk tipped over in the right hand corner.

I subconsciously tip toed over to it, kneeling down to open the shelves.

I will admit, I was anxious that something would jump out at me or creep up on me from behind, but thankfully all it contained was a small leather bound journal.

It shone brown as I felt its bumpy surface, worn and dirtied. It seemed at least 30 years old if not more, the pages yellow and water damaged. A bright red ribbon hung from the top.

I flipped to the first page, revealing childlike handwriting. The first line read

‘Dear diary, it’s me Daisy. Today was a rather unpleasant day.’

I rolled my tired eyes, and flicked ahead a couple pages. It all just seemed like a little girls diary entries. Suddenly I stopped, shocked. My mouth slowing opening as I felt my blood run cold.

Blood was splattered up the page I had landed on. A drawing of what looked like a dead dog was scrawled across one page. Manuscripts of the drawing on the blank one.

‘Dear Diary, it’s me, Daisy. Today was another awful day. Mom says that Dog died last night. I cried and cried an cried. As you’ve heard i loved Dog so so much. He was the best pet a girl could ask for. I thought it was strange since he’s only 6 years old, and I found him in her and Dads bed room. Why does this keep happening. I think I’m going like aunt Lucy. I don’t want to be sent away, I’d rather be at home with nightmares and screaming fits than in a dark cold hospital. Dead people are just so scary. The worst one was my brother. He just looked so pale. I don’t know how many bodies Mom and Dad have now. From what I see that makes ten. What if I’m next? I don’t want to go crazy either. I’m not crazy. I’m sane. I’m normal. I’m ok’

Beyond that, it becomes unreadable, just a messy scrawl. I felt queasy, sick to my stomach. My hands were slightly shaking. I felt a clamp on my throat.

A cold breeze ran through the room, and tickled my cheek. I yelped out in fright, on edge.

Turning around sheepishly, that’s when I saw it. My hair stood on end as I stared at the apparition, the ghost, with curly blond hair and a pink pin form dress. She was crying.

All I could was scream.

Never to be loved Never to be touched Never to be worshipped Never to be treasured

Like a forgotten perfume Scent sifting through air of millions Memories are feeble paintings of the mind Yet I wish I could find Someone of oozing allure

Hands soft enough to melt me Down to rose water Romantic, cooling Symbolic to a absent love Of which unfound

Bruises of care Fighting onto orry Sex for money Marry to convenience

Ring once bought Once returned Never wore again by a loving hand Of a mother, maiden, Feeble feelings gripped to gold bands To adorn with jewels of worth

Hand off me Rings off of me too The embrace of children Stamp it out like your cigarette Burned into my soul and skin Like a sacred scar of erotic trauma Never love me again ; for I fear a repeat of that devotion to your smoking embers In which you call amity

Your bedroom was a heaven Tapes tumbling from shelves Lights listening for a laugh; Or a sob of agony

From within I opened out Yes, held with shackles, but, Like warmth in blood Inseparable

Not a secret kept Whispers forced of my soul To offer of you, my heart For mere malice to defy love, On button to my cassette player Mercifully making me sing To mill me off

Please, wireman, release me each time I leave your bliss To chirp continuously Like a forgotten melody Dream instead of me Like a bird of the wild Soaring skies of hazy ambience Devoid of death to my feeble heart

Open the birdcage of your bedroom Kill the two birds with one stone Distant accounts of crashing bodies Two unidentified systems living within Free me but both of us unless The end of each souls will To never hear a endless song To cut the tape with callous

Let the tape of love sing it’s final song like a bird would seeing sun for the first fortnight of its life

The classroom was so silent you could hear a pin drop. The sound of a light breeze ran through it as the students waited absentmindedly for the teacher to return.

Most classes they would go nuts, let’s be honest. 3:3 was the most well-known class group in all the school ; and not for the right reasons.

To put into perspective for you, just last week Sam had a complete breakdown over a girl rejecting him and hurled a desk at Miss Doherty. Let’s just say he won’t be spending any Friday evenings at the movie-house anymore.

There was around 26 suckers in total, 12 girls and 14 boys. The girls weren’t much better.

A cat fight in the hallway resulted in a quick trip to the hospital.

The ladies bathrooms looked like something out of a World War One film.

Yet here they were, casually waiting for the teacher to return on a summers day. Those who sat by the window were lucky enough to stare out the window to watch the futile game of football below.

Finally, someone had had enough. Sam was the first to start. A decorated paper airplane soared overhead with speed and hit shy little Katie’s bowed head.

Giggling, she threw it back. Tina rolled her blue eyes in disgust, her long eyelashes touching her pencil thin eyebrows.

Sam wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he sure could woo a girl over if he wanted too.

This time, he ran his hand through his thick black hair and tossed the plane back. This back and forth exchange of flirting eventually stopped when Tina slammed her book down on the table loudly, envious.

“Sorry”

She wasn’t really sorry, and it wasn’t just an accident. Katie knew damn well, but for once in her uneventful life she spoke up.

“What?”

Tina eyes widened in shock at Katie’s response, but snapped back just as quickly.

“Nothing brat”

This time Katie had some fire in her words.

“Jealous much?”

Tina looked as if she was going to throw hands if she didn’t shut up soon.

“If you don’t shut your mouth I’ll shut it for you.”

“Go ahead then, I’ll return the favour since no one wants to hear your grating voice either.”

Tina stood up in rage, hard, her chair flying back.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“An ugly cow maybe?”

Books were flying, desks pushed to the side as people scrambled to watch the fight break out.

Tina had her pinned down for one second, Katie was winning the other. Sam was red, jumping up and down, cheering for I don’t even know who. I mean so was everyone. Who dosent love a good scrap.

It was getting louder and louder as people began to flood in from other classrooms.

At this point it was an all out brawl. Others had jumped in to defend others and it was slowing moving in some sort of ravenous pack down the hall. All they could see was hair flying and legs jutting out.

The entire thing was utter chaos.

The sound of screaming bounced off the sullen cave walls.

What was happening, I couldn’t stop thinking, or running. My head almost hurt with the rushing thoughts that filled it.

Suddenly, I was falling downwards, headfirst into the darkness. I was falling and I didn’t even realise. As I plummeted down, everything was silent. I had left the whole world behind me. I wasn’t scared. I was relieved.

I thought back to the start, to why I was now about to subside to the rocks. To why I was here in the first place.

“Did anyone hear that?”

Stephen was as nervy as ever. Although he was a fanatic about anything that dwelled below the surface, he had the same amount of guts as a mouse, and as timid as one too. Finally at her wits end, Clara snapped back.

“Maybe if you shut up for about two minutes we could hear it”

Stephen went quiet after that. The three of us trudged downwards, well over 2 miles beneath the surface.

Under payed and over worked, Clara was not exactly in the right mindset to be going on an expedition like this one. To be honest, she was only in this business for the money, but I think it was just me who thought that.

Our radios buzzed on every couple minutes to assure we were still alive and kicking, and after the 3rd hour of our downward climb the check-ins had gotten less and less frequent. I wasn’t complaining.

I surveyed my surroundings. It was all rather boring past the one mile mark. All signs of life became rare, plants included.

There was enough space for me to reach up and touch the cap of the cave, but it was only wide enough to fit around 5 people. Our large haversacks didn’t help. The greyish colour of stone was doing my head in.

Unlike Stephen, I think cave exploration is fairly dull, especially such lonesome work like this. I prayed for a change of surroundings. We had been wondering down this vacant corridor for well over an hour and I couldn’t take anymore of Clara’s persistent huffing.

It was just about then that the passageway opened up into a large cavern, ceiling now a good 30 metres up. Vines curled up the rugged walls and water was dripping from a gap in the roof.

Stephen instantly got to work photographing the vicinity, while me and Clara made our way to the middle.

She took a massive breath inwards, before blasting it out into a large yell. It echoed and ricocheted off the walls, ringing in my ears. She smiled proudly to herself.

“Was that really necessary?”

Stephen looked as pale as a ghost when I spoke those words. I made eye contact with him and I simply rolled my eyes.

Clara was the most irrational and irresponsible person I’ve ever met, and somehow wounded up here, in a team of high class researchers. I still don’t know how she did it. I wish I did but she never really talked about herself surprisingly.

This time, I heard something. It was a like a scraping talon or nail, running across a stone wall. It wasn’t just me who heard it. Clara’s smirk was suddenly wiped away and Stephen let out a little squeak in fear.

We all made joined eye contact and un hooked our guns from each of our tool belts.

I really wasn’t wearing the right clothes for a fight. The guys up at base made us wear so many layers we all looked like marshmallows. My redish hair had gotten pretty long, hanging low in front of my now pale face.

We all leaned backs against each other, guns at the ready. All of a sudden this cave felt very dark and ghastly.

Why are we so scared? The three of us have been on millions of trips like this for information and have never been so fearful.

So why now?

My gut sank as the scraping came closer this time. I gulped and sweat began to run down the back of my neck. I nervously pushed my hair from my eyes and began in a hushed whisper ,

“Look, if anything comes, shoot a couple times and run. Stuff this deep can kill in seconds, and it’ll never fit through that little aisle we came in. Legging it out of here is our best option.”

Clara went next,

“I agree, I’m not loosing my life over some rock scouting field trip, that’s embarrassing.”

Of course with the flames of danger nipping at our feet, Clara only cares about her image. Stephen stayed silent, shaking, his face hanging tense. I pressed the emergency button on our radios and the others followed suit. It was pointless, really. Nothing could save us now.

It came so quickly when it did come. The monster jumped out from the darkness so fast, we didn’t even have a chance to react.

It was utter chaos. The plan instantly fell to ruin when it splatted Stephen against the wall within the first couple seconds of its appearance. Clara was screaming like a lunatic. It was huge, so huge. Its claws had Stephen in its grasp. He never stood a chance.

Looking at his body, his camera shattered on the floor, I just started running. I don’t know what direction.

Clara’s roaring was behind me.

Little, bright Stephens remnants were a lifetime ago.

I sprinted like I had never sprinted before. I couldn’t stop the thoughts of Stephen’s parents last expedition hugging him when he was pulled out.

That last trip didn’t go great. He had tripped and broke his leg. It took us 3 hours to get him out.

They wouldn’t be hugging anyone this time.

My heart hurt with the thoughts that filled it.

Before I knew it, I was running straight over a cliff edge, tumbling into the night.

The sun was rising over the horizon as I walked through the open fields. For some reason, the sheep were rowdy this morning. Maybe the thunder storm the week prior has still shaken them. None the less, they still frolicked through the grass as I sat, leaned against a large stone poking through the ground. This rock held so many memories.

I thought of when Jessie was only three, and we were playing out on these fields together one afternoon. Her new Mary Jane’s were stained green already, the exposed part of her legs red from the heat. Mom always made us wear hats during the summer so we wouldn’t burn ourselves. I think she hated the sun as much as she hated the cold.

Country life never suited her.

Jessie never listened to me, to any of us in fact. She ran at a mighty speed even though I begged her not to, and landed face first into the smooth side of the rock. She hated the hospitals bright lights but loved her cool new scar.

Jessie was what you’d call a firecracker. She could silence a room just by entering it. Some days she would throw tantrums so huge it would take us a whole week to calm her down. As you can imagine, she didn’t get on so great in school either. Teachers despised her and her rebellious antics. To Jessie, you only lived once so you might as well make yourself known before you go. This meant a lot of detentions, suspensions and time outs. Still, I loved her to bits.

I felt the grass beneath my hands as I laughed at the image of her that day. She had blood pouring down her eyebrow, a large gash splitting it ; But she had this look, this defiant expression on her face. I don’t think anything could, or can, make her cry.

I could hear the sound of sheep moving ; unaware that I had closed my eyes. I gasped as they opened.

The sun had risen fully by now, but was covered by stormy clouds. I called for my dog, my border collie, Max, to come so I could round the sheep up. He had wondered off like he always did, not much of a Shepard’s dog, I remarked. He came bounding towards me and skidded to a stop at my feet, staring up at me, ready to be commanded.

That’s one thing my sister hated more than anything. Dogs. She hated anything and anyone who bowed down to its master.

As we rounded up the sheep and began to move, I could see our house in the distance. The plot of land we lived on was centuries old from what dad told me. The house must be too, if you could see the state of it. The roof looked like it was constantly caving in. The paint had long since faded away, which didn’t look to great against the moldy wood porch. It was home, but I needed a revamp.

Behind the house lay a bewildering forest, which I’ve only been in once or twice. Mom was so strict on entering it that when she found out Jessie had made a secret fort out there, she grounded her for 2 months. Jessie snuck out anyways. Mom never found out.

I was tired, so tired. I’d only just woke up an hour ago and I could fall back asleep in an instant.

Once me and Max had locked up the last sheep, we started to make our way back towards the rickety house.

Behind me I could feel wind whipping my exposed head. My baggy jeans sagged and i pulled at dad’s dark leather coat that had seen better days. My combat boots trudged through the mud and my black hair was pulled back into a plait which ran down to my shoulders.

Overall I looked threatening, which I suppose isn’t a bad thing being a girl in the 20th century.

My parents were never heavy on ‘acting like a lady’ or any of that bull, so I didn’t. I liked wearing nice dresses and makeup, but on the farm it wasn’t really that practical. Still, I wished I could have lighter hair or maybe a smaller nose. I think that all girls feel like that though, even girls who I think have everything. Maybe they wished they’d have short black hair or a hooked nose or eyes as round as circles like me. I think I’m going crazy if I think any girl wants to look like I do.

The lights in the house flickered as I heard the sound of shouting. Why are people fighting? Dad and Jessie never fight. Ever since Mom left, dad been a ghost and Jessie knows that. She’s never scream at Dad, never.

I began to pick up the pace as the screaming intensified, until the sound of a bang rang through the air. I felt myself go white. All the sleepiness left in my body evaporated. Only now could I notice the black mustang parked in the grass. Only now could I note the fact the voice sounded unfamiliar, alien. The front door burst open, and Jessie sprung out. The fearless, rebel Jessie I knew was gone. She looked like some sort of war monger. Blood was splattered across her long face, and she was sobbing uncontrollably as she cried,

“Don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me.”

My legs took control and I began to run, like a coward, like a maniac. The forest, I thought, the forest, the forest, the forest. I ran, ignoring the sounds of bullets behind me. My heart was in my mouth. I gasped for air as the terrain became more fickle. The tall trees blocked all light, and I had to manoeuvre around the rocks not to trip.

Suddenly I felt heat in my side. Red hot pain seared through my side and I slipped, my hand falling out in front of me…