The Vanishing

Janine was the one who inspired me to write long ago and she's the one who inspired me to write again. She's a goddess to me and I adore her and her works.

one

All it took was one man. One man to change the lives of all of us. Just one. 

And he planned it perfectly. Under the pale street lights no one would notice. No one could see through the crowds of people during the festival. She was gone in the blink of an eye on Hallow's Eve.

She's been gone for ten years.

I remember it clearly. I remember the festival. I remember the day after. I remember the chaos.

Everyone was worried for the girl with the auburn hair. Everyone was searching for her. I saw her face on the news next to a photograph of a large man who looked like a bouncer at a concert. Scars covered his neck and his face appeared with a violent expression you'd find in a horror film. Her disappearance didn't affect me much because I didn't know her personally, but their faces haunted my mind for years.

I recall her eyes. They were as grey as a Florida storm and pierced through you like a knife even at our tender age. I recall her heart shaped face. Not a single freckle lay on her porcelain skin or naturally rosy cheeks. Her nose was button like on her small face. I recall her hair. Her hair was a bright red, almost unnatural and the local kids called her a fire queen. At last I recall her name. Olivia. Olivia Hemmingway. The girl who disappeared from Burley during the Halloween Festival ten years ago. Olivia.

Thunder clashed and I awoke with a start to the grey shades of sunlight streaming through my discount blinds. Her red hair stood out in my mind against the dull colors of my vision. I had another dream about her. About the girl who was kidnapped at a Halloween Festival. I shivered as the running air conditioner swirled about my room. Thunder boomed again and I glanced outside my small window.

Burley was abnormally cloudy and cast the town in a monochrome shade. Burley is a town rich in desert as well as over half a year of snow piles. It was filled with gas stations and had a constantly foggy skyline that ran across the jagged peaks. Of course sometimes the local tourist wandered in to see some old architecture but as far as being an extremely populated town, we weren't.

Olivia. The dream. I stared out the window with a vacant expression as my thoughts nagged me about the dream. About her. About Olivia. I wish I had the chance to meet her before she vanished from our world.

It was such a funny thing. How you could go to school with someone and suddenly they're gone. Their desk is suddenly empty. Sometimes the teacher would call out her name and sniffle in embarrassment and somberly continue with the roll call. Sometimes the kids would look at the desk as if they missed her. But as time went on the teacher didn't call her name and the kids didn't look at the desk. They forgot. But I didn't forget. I watched the desk sit alone in the back, just like she sat there alone before she vanished.

I slid out of bed and put on the first pair of pants I could find. An old white v-neck was crumpled on the floor and I forced it over my head. Grabbing my hoodie off the chair and wrapping it around myself, I tip-toed through the 1950s style house. The shaggy carpet under my feet worn and now scraggy felt rough against my bare skin. Running my hands over the cracks in the floral wallpaper,  I passed a half open door and caught a glimpse of my sleeping mother, her makeup smeared across her face and her ash tray spilling over the rickety nightstand. She still had her work clothes on and a bottle of sleeping tablets lay next to her. I could tell she had a rough night working at the clinic last night. I carefully entered the room and pulled her blanket up over her and quietly left like I had never been there. I shuffled down the rest of the hall and made my way towards the entrance. I slipped on my sneakers and left the house as quietly as I could.

The crisp air of autumn nipped at my neck so I pulled up my hood and leisurely made my way down the street. Even in the daylight Burley seemed darker than other towns. The amount of rain, snow, and wind we get in this town is abnormal according to meteorologists. I stare at the cracks in the sidewalk as I pass, finding myself in the old habit of stepping over them. As a child, the rhyme "Step on a crack and break your mother's back" always frightened me. I had no father and if my mother broke her back I knew my family wouldn't be able to survive.

My thoughts turn back to Olivia. Today would be the anniversary. Most people say she's definitely dead by now, but the Hemmingways haven't given up hope. Her eyes flash through my mind. Maybe she really is still is alive. But the police have given up, the city has declared her dead, and a small funeral service was held in her honor eight years ago. But was she really gone? She must be. There was no way she could still be alive.

I turned down Burton Avenue and the Burley convenience store came in sight. The fluorescent lights of the OPEN sign flashed in red aggressive letters that aim to catch the attention of anyone willing to buy a cheap snack or a dirty magazine. It was a familiar sight and oddly comforting as I approached the door. An annoying bell chimed as I walked into the store towards the first aisle containing magazines and odds and ends, signaling my arrival to the entirety of the store.

"Hello, Edwin," a raspy voice sounded behind me. I turned around lowering my hood and gave a curt nod towards Hattie, the cashier and owner of the small store. She had worked here as long as I could remember and is the only salesperson to remember my name in this town. Picking up a shopping basket I wandered through the aisles picking up burritos, tv dinners, and small snacks in attempt to fill our fridge and pantry.

"Are you using your personal money for your family's food again?" Hattie choked out through inhales of her almost finished cigarette as I set my basket on the counter.

I looked down and replied sullenly, "If I don't then we can't eat." She stared at me for a moment and started to ring up my items. But that's just the way it was with me. Whenever people ask about my family they never really expect an answer, but I answer them anyways. They usually lose their vocal chords around that time.

My family is not one of the families in this town that is well off. We lead a very frugal lifestyle. Having 3 little sisters and a single mom raising us, it's hard for us to scrape enough money for all our bills, let alone food. I constantly find myself buying our food with money from my job at the local auto mechanic despite mother's constant nags of "We have enough for food, don't worry about spending your money on that." Despite her best efforts at work, we never have enough money for food. Our change jar is constantly being emptied and wasted on cigarettes and cheap toys my sisters don't need.

"Thirty-two dollars and sixty-seven cents," Hattie's voice awoke me from my thoughts as I pulled out my paycheck for the week from the pocket of my hoodie. My heart sunk when I saw $30 scribbled on the front of the envelope of cash I recieved from my boss. Jim only pays me for the hours I work, but this week had been different. We had school exams and I found myself at home studying rather then working.

I fumbled with the envelope and my voice cracked as I explained to Hattie, "I-I only have thirty. Thank you anyways..." I shoved the envelope in my pocket and headed for the door.

"I don't think the store will miss two bucks," Hattie wheezed just as I put my hand on the door.

I turned back with somber eyes, "Thank you, Hattie."

She smiled and showed off her coffee stained teeth behind her dark maroon lip liner, "Don't mention it," she coughed out. I handed her the check and looked at the cigarettes behind the counter my mom adored so much. A flash of bright red darted by the window and I turned quickly to look but there was nothing there.

"Did you see that?" I asked Hattie as I stared into the gray sky.

Hattie eyed me suspiciously, "No..." She handed me my bag of items and I rushed out the door and looked around. There was nothing and no one. The only sign of life was an old blue truck scooting down the road.

I could have sworn I saw a flash of red. But what could it have been? Olivia? No. It's not her. It could never be her. She's dead and she's never coming back. Ever. I shook my head and pulled my hood up once again as small droplets started to hit the top of my hood while my feet hit the pavement on my way back home.