This is Paul

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The room was 2 shades of green, had a large window where the sun poured in, and was inhabited by two playful seven-year old boys. Their father, John walked into the room, arms full of toys to put in the toy chest, full of memories. As he made his way to the toy chest, Buddy, the family dog, charged through John's legs knocking the toys out if his arms and pushing him over. The boys giggled despite the incident and John followed suit laughing behind them. Susan quickly yelled upstairs from the kitchen, “Is everyone okay up there?” Jackson responded with, “Yes mommy, daddy just fell!” “Buddy should be taken on a walk boys.”, Susan replied. The boys made their way downstairs into the kitchen where Susan stood with the leash in hand watching the news. Jordan took it from her hand to the front door. Jackson called for Buddy, and he darted to him, jumping up in excitement. “Several boys, have been going missing...”. Susan stared at the television. Jackson laughed and played with him as Jordan put the leash on Buddy. “Boys, just wait for your father”, Susan's voice rang. “...ages 6-12. Parents and children should be aware of these happenings. The killer seems to be leaving his victims in an abandoned house, waiting for heat to kill them”. As Jackson opened the door Buddy noticed a squirrel running across the grass and to a tree, he charged out the door, Jordan loosing grip of the leash. Both boys yelled and Jackson began to run, the squirrel quickly changed direction to run across the street. Buddy bolted after the squirrel leading Jackson in the street with him. Jordan turned as the door opened, his father was as white as a ghost. The next thing Jordan saw as he turned to the street was Jackson laying lifeless in front of the car. The car had come flying down the street, and picked Jackson up and whipped him down the street like a rag doll.

The green room now had a faded look to it, a memory of what used to be. Jordan now 10 years old hadn't even opened the door since his brother was gone, until now as he looked for any of his belongings that he might need in his new home. The memories quickly flooded back to him, he fell to the floor overwhelmed by the loss he had over and over tried to forget. His mother stood in the doorway watching her only son. She felt a sharp pain run through her from her stomach to her heart. Susan sat on the ground and comforted Jordan. “All things happen for a reason, dear...”, she said slightly cynically, yet attempting comfort. She helped her son up, and they walked to her car solemnly. As they passed the through the old family room, John lay passed out on the staircase, an unknown bottle in his hand. John woke up hours later, headache on his mind and a dark room to open his eyes to. He was groggy and thought to himself, “If only I was there.. If only i was ready in time... My son would still be here.”. Those words ran through his head every second of everyday. Which lead to the leaving of Susan and Jordan. She couldn't handle the thought anymore and couldn't help but think John was losing his wits. John took another sip hoping to forget losing his son. “I only have one son now, I must get him back.. I must get him back...” The words almost echoed in his mind as he passed out once more.

The phone rang the next morning, waiting for an answer, Susan sat in terror. John finally picked up, quietly starting with a confused “Huh-”, “Jordan is missing.”, Susan said quickly. John began to rage, almost blacking out from anger as he had many times before from Jackson's death. He looked at the empty bottle desperately, and already began to blame himself for another sons harm. “Hello? John? Are you there?”, Susan said panicking. John muttered “I will find him. I swear.”. John quickly hung up the phone, startling Susan. “Its a stuffy 32 degrees today...”, the television informed. John once again picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. His therapist answered, wondering if John has had another breakdown. John explained in few words that he must cancel all appointments to find his son. “Have you called 911?”, Dr. Grosvenor said calmly. “Yes, of course I have! Do you think I don't care for my own child!”, John screamed. He hung up in an angry manner. He grabbed his shoes and rushed out the door. Susan met him at the end of the road. John was out of breath because of the running. “Get in. We need to go to the station for a report.”, she said demanding a quick reaction. It was a silent ride there. Nothing but thoughts had kept each company.

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 30, 2013 ⏰

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