The Old Flashlight

Chapter 3

"Last night, roughly 7 PM, a young girl went missing. Some people say they saw young Jackie Watson taken by someone, supposedly The Man. We have police and search parties looking for her. Any help would be appreciated." Gramps watched the television in horror, sobbing uncontrollably.

"No, my little girl. Why did I let her go?" he asked himself. Standing up, he walked to the kitchen to grab a beer. He let the bitter liquid fill his mouth and travel down his throat, making him feel a little better about the situation. He drank one, then two, then three, and whn he looked down, he had drank 12 cans. Wobbling and stumbling, he made it to his bedroom. He laid on his bed and cried, knowing Jackie wasn't going to make it out alive. He sobbed and shook, body racking with each sob, lip quivering between breaths. He missed his little girl, the light in his day. He missed everything about her, and he would never forgive himself for what he's done. He heard a knock through his sobs, and attempted to go open it. Stumbling into walls and knocking items over, he made it to the door. Opening it, he saw a woman, a very sad one.

"Hello, sir. I've heard that your daughter has been taken, and I send my condolences. My daughter, Mara, was taken as well. I've had people upon people search for her, but there's been no luck. I'm sorry, this isn't about me. I just wanted to stop by and let you know that you don't have to grieve alone. I live 5 houses to your left. Stop by whenever you'd like." she said, smiling slightly.

"Thank you, ma'am. I will make sure to remember that." Gramps said, smiling. She simply nodded and walked away, leaving him to close the door and continue sobbing. Leaning against the door, he held himself and cried until he fell asleep.

My poor girl is gone, and there's nothing I can do. God, please make sure she stays okay.