Vanished

Vanished

By Mr. Technicalities.

A cold chill came down my spine as he walked down the stairs. His hair, sweaty. His eyes, everywhere. His legs, trembling. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, which was beyond unusual. "Hey Eddie. Come sit." He glanced swiftly to face me. Eyes wide. He smiled, a very forced smile. He was clearly trying to hide something. "Eddie, what's wrong, you seem a bit, upset." He sat, staring at his meal. "Eddie?" "What father?" "Are you alright?" "Of course, yes." I felt a sense of uneasiness. "Eddie, umm, what's with the shirt?" "What do you mean, it's a shirt." "I see that, yes. It's just, I thought you hated long sleeves. You say they irritate your arms. Make 'em hurt badly." He couldn't hold his smile any longer, I could see it clearly, something was bothering him. He glanced all around the room, that look painted on his face. "You know you'll probably have to put some cream on your arms later. They'll be red and swelled." He gave a slight groan. "It'll burn if you don't, I know how sensitive your skin is, and you look rather itchy already." "Father, I'm not exactly hungry today." He got up from his chair and walked quickly back upstairs. I hadn't seen him for the remainder of my time before work. Upon arriving back home at five though, I noticed the sink was void of dishes. He hadn't eaten lunch. In fact, the entire house was exactly how I had left it, as though he hadn't even left his bedroom. I put my belongings down and headed up the stairs. "Eddie, Eddie I'm home!" No response. I began to wonder if he was even home. I walked up to his bedroom, the door locked. "Eddie, you alright?" I put my ear up to the door, nothing. I headed downstairs and opened the junk drawer in the kitchen. I grabbed the pick-lock and headed back upstairs. I picked the lock and opened the door. "Eddie? I'm coming in now." His room was a disaster. Mess everywhere. I couldn't believe it, he's usually not like this. It became apparent however that he wasn't home. His window was open, the curtains flailing in the open breeze. I walked up to the window and peaked my head out. He was nowhere to be seen. A sense of immense worry came over me. But I remained calm, no sense in panicking really. I gave the bedroom another look around. Complete disaster. I noticed a coloration on the bed-sheets. What used to be a nice light gray, now red in spots. Smears of red, deep in color. I couldn't believe it. What was going on? I began to breath heavy. Maybe now, there may be a real sense in panicking. I took another look out the window. As I did, I noticed something on the side of the window framing. More red smearing. I looked down on the ground, the whole wall down there, smeared red, as though a bloody hand was trying to grab a wall to pick itself back onto those injured legs. I ran downstairs and out the door, around to the backside of the house. I followed the trail until it stopped at the alleyway. I went back indoors and sat on the couch, wondering what to do. I grabbed my phone and called 911. I informed them of what happened and they were then on their way. While I waited for arrival, I just sat and thought. A million thoughts running all around inside my head. Not one of them without a sense of uneasiness. Before long, police sirens outside filled the atmosphere with their sound. A knock on the door for me to answer. I opened the door and greeted an officer. He walked in, and behind him, another, and another, and another. They asked me a few questions and I was happy to show them up the stairs. I explained to them, this isn't the first time he's escaped out the window, so I didn't think anything too drastic of it at first. He'd certainly be back here sometime likely tomorrow morning. But the blood, so much blood, I had a doubt of his return. Something bad has happened this time. I told them about his strange behavior. The deathly vibes coming off from him. They searched the room and when they were finished, went outside and around the back to see the trail of blood, from the window to the ground to the alley. They concluded their search there and sent a search party for him immediately. Most of the officers left, but two stayed behind, spending most of their time still here upstairs in the bedroom. They asked of me to remain in the living room, and so I did. I could hear them tearing the room apart more than it already was. Then, I heard a voice in my head, I couldn't make out what it was saying at first, but then it got louder. I got up and headed outside. I began walking down the sidewalk, block by block. I tucked my hands in the pockets of my thin coat. It was cold here in late Fall. I walked for a while, every now and then I saw a police car driving slowly down the street, searching for my son. I walked and walked, the voice inside my head, telling me not to stop. I took a turn down an alley and there he was, laying up against the less pretty side of a house. "Son." "Father." "What is this? What're you doing here? The police are searching for you." He looked at me, worried. I sighed a deep sigh. "What's wrong son. You got to tell me." He smirked and turned his head away so I could not see it. From the other end of the alley, someone walked slowly and cautiously towards us. "Son, who's that, you know?" He looked at me, all smiles. "It's my girlfriend, Sabrina." "Girlfriend? You never told me you had a girlfriend." "There's a lot you don't know. Sabrina! It's alright, come on! This is my father here!" The girl began to run, feeling safer knowing who I am. She came close enough that even in darkness, she was visible. A bright, happy face, gleaming with positivity. "Hi, I'm Sabrina." I raised my hand slightly and said hi. "I'm sorry about your son sir, he's hurt, he asked me to grab him some food and water." She showed me a bag full of fruits and bottled water. "Nice, nice. So what's the matter with him, he has me rather worried about him." She looked at me, unsure. Then, she looked at him. It seems even she doesn't know. "Eddie, come on, you got to tell me, I'm your father, I'm here for you." He looked at me, tears running down his face. "Father, I'm going home. I'm sorry." I didn't understand. He got up and walked past Sabrina, grabbing the bag from her hands as he did. He pulled from his pockets a rod of some sort. It looked like a Twizzler, but pink rather than red and five times the size. He gave it a wave and in front of him, a portal of some kind had opened. He turned his head to look into my eyes. All I could see was a mix of fear, sadness, and regret. "I'm sorry father, I will return one day." He then stepped through as it closed, and just like that, he was gone, vanished from this world just like that. Sabrina looked at me shocked, wondering if maybe I had some sort of explanation for what she had just witnessed. As much as I wish I did, I did not. I've waited since that day for his return. Days, weeks, months, eventually years. So many years. And yet I still wait, knowing that I will see him again. And knowing that when I do, I will finally get answers.