Better Off Alone (Adopted by Brendon and Sarah Urie)

70. Brendon

Daughter of Panic! Frontman Missing

Callie Urie, the 12-year-old adopted daughter of Panic! At The Disco frontman Brendon Urie and his wife Sarah, was reported missing yesterday.

A reported altercation at her school in the morning evidently sent the young girl running from the classroom and ultimately the school. Administrators stated that they knew only which direction she went from the school and would not elaborate on the reasons.

A search was organized Monday afternoon and as word quickly spread, hundreds of volunteers arrived at three separate search areas.

The young Miss Urie had just started at the Merton School for the Deaf when a classroom altercation occurred and the youngster ran out of the classroom. The school administration stated that the altercation was between Callie Urie and an unidentified classmate. The school would not provide any further comment.

Three separate search sites have been set up at the base of the hills surrounding the area. Hundreds of volunteers have arrived to assist with the search for young Miss Urie, which is now entering its third day.

Area residents are reminded to keep a look out for the girl and are reminded that Callie Urie is Deaf and will not hear anyone calling her name.

Any information should be forwarded to the Los Angeles Police.

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Callie had now been missing for three days. No one had seen her since she ran from the school. People in the area who had provided footage from their own cameras showed us only that she did head towards the hills to the north east. The search had been focussed there and was branching out westward as well as north.

Sarah and I barely slept. If it weren't for Zack, Kala, Linda and our friends and family - my parents had come in the day after Callie went missing - who made sure we ate. We were so focussed on finding Callie, on our anxiety of not knowing where she was, if she was okay, and a thought we didn't want to entertain, but we knew was something that was possible - our families kept us from forgetting simple things like eating and bathing. They made sure we got some sleep, even though neither of us could really sleep, no matter how hard we tried.

It was nearly impossible to go outside in the front of the house. The street was clogged with media trying to find out everything about our family grief.  They waited around garden walls if someone tried to walk the dogs. In the back yard, we couldn't really enjoy the outside areas. If I went to my studio alone, it was a sign Sarah and I were either grieving or divorcing. If we went out together, we were escaping or hiding something.

Management stepped up and put out statements that covered the reality without giving away details. It helped to not have to deal with press while my wife and I navigated our own personal hell.

As the sun set at the end of the third day, I started to prepare myself that Callie might not be coming home. I cried. I screamed into a pillow. I went out to my studio and screamed at the world.  I screamed at the god I don't believe in that this was further proof that there was no god. What kind of god would allow us to fall in love with our beautiful daughter only to steal her away from us!

I cried so hard, I fell asleep. Sarah was shaking me awake. Once I'd rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I looked at her. Tears were flowing down her face.

"Did they find her?" I asked, not wanting to know the answer.

"They found a shoe," Sarah said, quietly. "A pink high top Converse. Size two."

I was stunned into silence. Not that I'd been saying anything.

"It was torn," Sarah sobbed. "The laces were torn, and Brendon... there's dried blood on it."

Sarah sank into the couch beside me. I wrapped my arms around her. We cried. We cried hard. They'd found one of Callie's shoes. It could mean anything really. But it didn't sound good.

"Your mom wants you to come inside and eat something. I know you probably don't want to, but you need to," Sarah said. I nodded.

We got up and with my arm around Sarah's waist, and hers around mine, we walked back into the house.

My mom came and wrapped me in her arms, which set off a torrent of fresh tears.

"My heart says she's still alive," my mom said to me. "I just know it. We have to believe that until we know for sure,"

My dad clamped his hand on my shoulder and pulled me into a hug as well.

"I'm with your mom. She'll be found. She'll be alive. We'll get her back," he said. "She's been through so much, she'll get through this."

I wished I had their optimism, but this was the fourth day now that Callie was missing. The days had been hot, each one hotter than the day before. On the second night Callie had been missing, it had rained. The following day, temperatures topped 90° in the shade.

Morning turned to afternoon and there was no further word from the searchers. The LA fire department was going to stay out overnight tonight looking for heat signatures. We were now looking at less of a rescue and possibly more of a retrieval.

Sarah and I sat together, neither of us speaking, just holding each other. Our friends and family sat with us, brought us food and drinks, which I mostly picked at.

I was mourning. Four long days had passed. Four days where Callie had been out in the wilderness alone, in just shorts and a t-shirt, no food or water. And now with just one shoe. I - we - had to face the terrible reality.

Callie was gone.