Searching for You

Up All Night

Searching for someone in the middle of the night on your laptop is not as fun as it sounds. Especially if that someone is your father.

Why, you may ask? Because you might find something you don't want to find.

Which is exactly what happened with me.

I had used the pictures and newspaper articles my mom had to search specific things on the internet. A bunch of different articles pulled up when I had punched in the words "Hank McCoy scientist" into the search bar. I clicked on one that was the most recent out of all of them, despite the fact that it was from twelve years ago.

The first thing that popped up was a picture of my dad standing next to a bald man in a wheelchair, holding up a random certificate I knew nothing about, so there was that. I took a long look at the picture. Standing behind my dad in the background was a group of people with big smiles plastered on their faces. I couldn't tell what they were happy about, but I guessed it had something to do with the certificate in my Dad's hand.

I squinted to try to read what was on the certificate, but it looked like it had been intentionally blurred out by someone. All the article said about the photo was "Henry McCoy and Charles Xavier make a huge step for their school for gifted youngsters". That was it. Nothing else.

What even was the school for gifted youngsters? What qualified as a "gifted youngster" anyways? Someone who was really good at sports? Someone who won the school talent show twice in a row? The term made no sense.

I continued to scroll the article to find whatever it is they were happy about but came up with nothing yet again. I opened a new tab and instead searched for Charles Xavier, the bald guy in the wheelchair that was in the picture with my dad. Hundreds more results came up than before. Apparently Charles Xavier was a professor, a scientist, a technician, a mathematician, basically the smartest man in the world besides Chase Davenport.

And maybe Marcus, since he had Chase's abilities too, I thought sadly, my spirits falling.

Sometimes I wondered what could have happened differently with Marcus, if there was a chance he could have changed and been saved. Maybe we could still be together if things had turned out differently. Could he be helping me search for my dad right now?

I refused to let my mind travel farther down that road and forced myself to focus on the matter at hand.

I clicked on a random article and that was when I found it.

I found the thing I didn't know existed but didn't want to find.

It was a picture of a crashed plane. At least I thought it was a plane. I had no clue what the heck happened because of the state of the crash---near disintegration---but I already knew I didn't like it. Something about it felt off.

The plane had crashed outside of LA, miraculously not near any buildings. Debris and whatever was inside the plane was strewn about the landscape, people bending down to examine the state of the wreckage, the hull of the plane burnt like it had exploded.

To make matters worse I saw glasses. I didn't know if they were my dad's glasses or not and that made my gut wrench with fear. If my dad was dead . . .

No.

I checked the date of the article. It was from a few days after the newspaper my mom had shown me.

My heart dropped.

No, no no no no . . .

My breathing became shallow, my eyes started to water with fresh tears. My brain refused to accept what was right in front of me. Is my dad really dead?

With shaking hands, I continued to scroll to find answers, wiping my tears to see the screen more clearly. I needed confirmation of some sort, even if it was news I didn't like.

The words kept scrolling by in a blur and I was barely reading them at all. My mind was barely engaged. The only thing that was registering at all was the reality that my dad was---possibly--- dead. And it made me want to puke.

Please don't be dead, I prayed. Please, please, please, please . . .

My eyes landed on something else. It was something someone else would have looked at and been heartbroken. It was something someone would have seen and assumed the worst. But I didn't. I don't know why I didn't, but I somehow knew that this was what I needed to see.

"Forensics picked up a sample of blood," the article said. "Upon further testing it appears to be the blood of none other than esteemed scientists Henry McCoy."

My heart was racing but it was no longer racing out of fear and disbelief. I wasn't afraid anymore, I wasn't speechless anymore. Instead, I was hopeful. One would wonder such a thing, but there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for my reaction. And this was the reaction that kept me thinking all night long, keeping me from any sort of sleep.

I closed the laptop and climbed into bed, slipping my glasses off and staring at the ceiling. My mind was racing with everything I saw. But it was also calculating, working out my next move.

The blood. The blood made me hopeful because that plane had blown up. If there was blood, someone was alive.

If my dad's blood was found, that meant he was alive too.

I know I said I would update more often, but I'm sorryyyyy, idk what happened

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter (: