It’s been four days since anyone has seen him last and rumors were brewing quickly. I’ve tried many times to cough up the truth about what happened the night of my brothers disappearance. I tried admitting my role- the role of loved ones. I’ve lied so many times- lied to police officers, looking them straight in their solemn eyes. I was tired of running around the truth- tired of treating my brothers disappearance like it was some game. It was my turn to do something- it was my turn to help Charlie.

“Faye, are you saying you know what happened the night of your brother’s disappearance?”

I swallowed sharply. My mother and father, standing right besides me, were in a look ready to turn the police officers away. Their mouths were already agape with faint mutters like, “She doesn’t-“ “She wasn’t-“

“Yes,” I answered confidently.

I couldn’t turn to my parents- I could already feel the look they gave me. I couldn’t imagine seeing it for myself.

“Well then,” the officer snuck a glance at my parents, “Tell me everything you know.”

I nodded and tried to recollect the haunting memories from that night. Until then- it was clear. I was no longer standing in the living room before the police and my parents- I was sitting in my bed, just out from the shower. The light bulb from the lamp was flickering again, and just as I was about to scout for a new bulb- the phone rang.

I scoffed at my brothers contact displayed across the screen. He always called at the worst times- always interrupting something.

“What is it?” My voice was cold. He could already tell that I didn’t want to talk to him- he could already tell he interrupted something again.

His voice was low, that of a whisper- I figured it was just sadness in his voice-that maybe I answered too harshly, “Faye, can you pick me up?”

I sighed, “Pick you up? Now you know I can’t do that, your school is too far. Why don’t you ask mom and dad?”

He took a long pause.

“Hello?”

His breathing was heavy and for a while, that’s all I heard- the inhale and exhale of his every breath, “Please, Faye,” he begged, “I don’t feel...safe.”

I was beginning to get worried, “So why don’t you ask mom and dad? Charlie, what’s going on?”

There was that sudden pause again.

“Hello?” I bayed, “Charlie!”

“Please,” he begged again, “Someone- something,” that’s when I noticed he was short of breath as if he’s been running, “Is following me.”

“Following you?” I scoffed, “Charlie, this isn’t funny. Now if you want me to get mom and dad, I will-“

“Shh,” he hushed.

I don’t know what it was- maybe it was fear- but I stopped talking. I found myself breathing in the same heavy breaths Charlie had been breathing. Waiting for something awful like he seemed to be waiting for.

“It has to be,” he spoke again, “It has to be you, Faye. Please.”

“Charlie, can you just try explaining what’s happening? Are you even at school? Charlie, I-“

The light bulb flickered again and the phone suddenly clicked.

“Charlie?” I bayed, “Charlie!”

That was the last I’ve ever spoke to him. That was the last I heard his voice.

The living room centered again- the warm light- the disapproval across my parents faces- the officers and their uniforms.

“I never heard from him ever again.”

The officer nodded while writing something on a notepad.

“And what time did your brother call?”

I paused, “It had to be some time around 8:30. That’s usually the time I always finish my night shower.”

The officer nodded and wrote more things down.

“And how would you recall your brothers attitude that night?”

I nodded, “Scared- definitely scared, cautious- desperate.”

The officer nodded again, before looking at my parents, “Well, this little piece of information helped a great deal. We have a better understanding of this case,” then he turned to me, “But do be aware that we will proceed further questioning soon. We’ll be keeping in touch.”

I nodded and watched my parents escort the officer out of the house.

They turned around- a smile across their faces.

“Well done, Faye,” Father was first to congratulate me, “They’ll never suspect a thing.”

Mom nodded and stroked my hair, “You did what had to be done, Faye.”

Or maybe my turn had passed.