Fort Oakley | Part One

1 | Have You Seen This Person? Neither Have We

Through the dense trees, I could just make out the water lapping at the shore of the small lake, with the fog sitting so thick above it, you wouldn't be able to see the other side.

Winter was coming to an end, and the majority of the snow had melted away, leaving us with dead trees and dead animals who couldn't survive the cold.

Spring would arrive in a few weeks, leaving no trace of the tragedies that had taken place, much like the rest of things in Fort Oakley.

"You want a lift to school before I leave, Charly?" I slowly tore my gaze away from the window, looking over at Claire who was leaning against the door frame of my room.

She was smiling again, trying to overlook the sharp contrast between us. Trying to overlook the fact that there was no biological trace of her in me.

"I'm going to walk," I replied, trying and failing miserably to return the smile she gave me. "But thanks."

"I'm heading out to Sango to meet with a potential client, so I'll probably be gone for two or three days. There's money in the drawer for food and anything else you need, but if you need more, just send me a message."

I shot her a look. "I'm a frugal shopper, Claire. I'm not going to blow your money in three days."

"I know, I know," she shrugs. "But you can splurge once in a while if you want to, Charly. Get out of Fort Oakley for a change and buy yourself something nice."

"Can I buy some new oil paints? Mr. Drayton was really impressed by the collection you displayed at the property, so I don't want to use another type of paint for the new collection he requested only for him to not like it. I'll give you the money back."

Another smile was directed my way, but this one was accompanied by a flash of emotion in Claire's eyes that was gone before I could identify it.

I didn't remember when the painting obsession started, but Claire had been really impressed with a painting I did a few years ago, so, taking a chance, she had displayed it in one of the houses she was selling at the time.

The buyer had apparently seem more interested in the painting than the house and offered Claire an absurd amount for it. Ever since then, Claire would put my pieces up at her properties, with only one condition: if someone bought them, she would give me fifteen percent of the money, while she deposited the rest in a bank account I would only gain access to when I turned eighteen.

I had asked her to lower my cut of the money to five percent, since I barely spent any of it.

Claire had money, and it didn't bother her to spend it on me.

"I'm the parent here, Charly. You accept money from me, not the other way around."

A didn't uncomfortable moment of silence settled between us as we were reminded of our relationship.

Claire wasn't my parent, and we both knew that. She tried her best, and so did I most of the time, but we never really clicked.

Be it because she adopted me at such a young age and probably resented me for it, or because it always felt like she wasn't telling me something. There was always something keeping us distant from each other, and neither of us ever tried to figure out what that was.

Claire took her car keys out of her purse, pushing off the wall. "I better get going. You know the rules; no jail, and no hospital. Stay over at Elvin's place, or even Willa's if you want."

The probability of me doing that was negative zero.

"Have a safe trip," I told her, something I did every few weeks when she was heading off to some town I've never heard of for work.

"Thanks, Charly. Call me if you need anything."

She disappeared from view and I stared at the indents her shoes had made in the hallway carpet.

They were gone after a couple of seconds.

"And do your homework instead of painting!" She called before the front door closed. I listened to her car traveling down the driveway, and then there was nothing but the quietness of a woods which would soon be repopulated by those it had lost.

↟↟↟

The woods gave way to the town center of Fort Oakley, the smallness of the town evident in the scant amount of residents heading to work.

I made my way through the alley between the pharmacy and grocery store, not bothering to look for approaching cars as I crossed Main Street.

The frost on the grass crunched beneath my feet as I entered the park. The little formations of ice began seeping into my shoes so I made my way onto the old cobblestone pathway that required me to pass in between the Town Hall and the First Family Monument.

The flapping of the posters on the town bulletin board catches my eye and I stop in front of it to see if there is anyone new.

The missing persons posters is so overlapped over each other, you can't even see the back of the board anymore.

My eyes travel over the various faces, trying to recall where I could have seen any of them before. I remember Mr. Rivera from the few shifts he worked at the grocery store throughout the week before he went missing, and Ms. Dawson would always give you a free refill at the coffee shop even if you didn't want one.

I didn't know who the rest of these people were. They had to have gone missing before I turned twelve - before I lost all memory of my childhood days.

All of these people had gone missing several years ago, and there had never been any new leads in their cases, at least that's what the police said.

But I knew they wouldn't be found, no matter how hard you looked.

Once you disappear in this town, you're gone forever.

You'll never be found again.