Instant panic.
Dark thoughts have the emotion flooding my body, as the most disturbing imagery plays out in my head. W-Where’s Addy? This isn’t… this can’t be…
My mind on the one person who means everything to me triggers my body to move. “Call 9-1-1! Get our parents up and over here, NOW!” I shout, ordering the younger two into action.
My voice manages to break them out of their stunned positions, initiating a frenzy of confusion and movement.
“Do not let them come in here. I’m going to look for her,” I tell Kade and he nods in return. I’ve watched enough police shows to know that I don’t want to mess up the scene, but I need to look for her, to find her. I need to know that she’s okay.
Making sure not to step on anything that could be deemed important, I rush into the house and take the stairs two at a time. My mind is only on one thing and it’s hoping I find her asleep on her bed, completely oblivious to the horrors her house has seen.
Bashing my way through her bedroom door, my heart falters before it completely drops. Falling somewhere to the bottom of my stomach, when I see that her bed is completely empty. In fact, it looks as though she never even made it to bed last night. It’s still perfectly made, not even a crease in the blankets to show she was here.
I rush to her closet, throwing open the sliding door and dropping to my knees.Please be here, please be here.There’s a little hidey-hole way in the back that she curls up in when she’s scared or upset. I found out about it one day after some of the girls at school were making fun of her for only hanging out with us boys.She had run home after the last bell, not even waiting for us to all meet up. When I came to check on her, her mom said she was in her room, but when I got here, it was empty. I was about to go back downstairs and tell Rosie, when I heard the smallest sniffle coming from the closet. There, behind one of her large suitcases, was a little hole in the bottom of the wall. I think it was used once upon a time as one of those food elevator things, or maybe a laundry shoot… Either way it was the perfect size for her.
Reality has begun to settle deep within my soul when I don’t find her there either, but I won’t stop looking. I call out for her in every room, every hall, searching all the spots I know she could hide. The treehouse in the back yard that we helped David build four summers ago. The small space behind the hot water tank where Max got caught sneaking Rosie’s cookies, and still, she’s nowhere.
Tears are falling down my cheeks, when my mind comes to terms with the only option that’s left.She’s gone.
By the time I make it back to the front door and gaze upon the three other people just as worried as I am, the waterfall of agony hits. Sobs rip from my chest, my lungs constricting with every hardened breath as I wail into the open air. Each one of us uncontrollably crying harder than we ever have before as we realize a part of our group, ourfamily, is missing… or worse. Torment and agony are all that’s displayed on our face as we collapse into each other, desperate to lean on one another for any kind of support.
When our families and the local authorities arrive, the four of us have taken up a seat on the edge of the front lawn. Away from the house, away from the horror, but still silent and in shock. None of us know what to say, what to do. I’m not even sure we can remember our own names right now.
Our parents rush to where we sit, panicked and fearful. Their hands comb over every inch of our clothes and skin to make sure we’re okay, but still we don’t move. You can tell by the looks on their faces that they’re saddened learning of the events of the morning, and terrified of the repercussions it may have on us. How our mental health is going to be affected after coming across what we did. I can’t even give them an answer, to provide Mom with some reassurance that I’malright, because the truth is, none of us are alright. Our friend is gone, and there is nothing we can do about it.
Four hearts break simultaneously, four brothers bonding in grief.
One girl missing.
Chapter One
Mikayla
There’s a strange sort of comfort that comes from only having to rely on yourself. No one interfering, trying to tell you how to act or what to do with your day. Unfortunately, there’s also a formidable sadness that comes with always being alone.
It’s been twelve years since I’ve had someone by my side that I could depend on. Twelve years since I’ve been shown sincere compassion or love, without someone wanting something from me in return. I’m alone, and although that’s preferable to the alternative of being their captive again, I sometimes—okay, a lot of times—yearn for companionship.
It’s been a long year of running. Ducking and dodginghim.I’ve changed my name, bounced between cities and states, and hid among the masses. Never stayinganywhere for too long—just in case—but I’m tired. Exhaustion settles deep within my bones from the constant act of looking over my shoulder. Watching my surroundings for any signs of danger and making sure the enemy isn’t lurking around every corner. I don’t want to run anymore. It’s time to stand my ground, to finally fight my way out of this mess.
When my eyes open, they’re heavy, lumbered. It feels as though someone has attacked me with a brick, and I forgot to defend myself. My body is so incredibly sore, my eyes are a blur, and my head is spinning like a top. The world around me is unfamiliar, but I’m in some sort of room. A small and stagnant space with little in it. The mattress underneath me smells like death itself and I’m starting to believe nothing in this space can be considered sanitary.
Sitting up and my eyes finally focusing, a small window along the far wall provides just enough daylight to illuminate the area. Or at least, the lack of area. This room can’t be any more than the size of a normal bathroom.
Peering out the foggy glass, a beach looking into endless water is all I can see. Any other day it would be a beautiful sight, but today, it’s just a reminder that I’m alone. My head is still dizzy, my brain unfocused, but memories are starting to come back to me. The home invasion, the men in masks, weapons, my parents…
Oh, God. My parents.
Mom.
Dad.
They’re gone.
My breath chokes as my airways constrict. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was real, it was all real. My mom… my dad… they’re really gone. Taken from me by the guy my father called Colt.
Tears are streaming down my face, hot and fast as I rush to the door. Pulling with all my might and kicking the frame in a feeble attempt to wretch it open. To no one’s surprise, it doesn’t budge. Locked from the outside. These four walls are my prison.
Shivers run down my spine recalling the tragic beginnings that brought me to where I am today. Waking up cold, alone, afraid. My family gone, my friends ripped away, and in a place I’d never been before. I often wonder what happened to everyone, what happened to our lives after I blacked out.
