Run Away (An Academy Ghost Bird Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Three

Luke

     The sun finally set. Kota and the others spent hours searching the woods but didn't find anything. The rain from the night before had washed any clues away.
     Now it's my turn.
     I studied the two-story house from the woods, silently observing each window, looking for a point of entry. A room downstairs, most likely the master bedroom, had a television playing and the agitated voice of a woman commenting on the news report could be heard. I spotted a dark-haired girl, maybe 17, through the kitchen window getting something to drink. Shortly after she left the kitchen a shadow passed by a window upstairs. This must be the other daughter's room. There was another window upstairs, over the front porch, that remained dark. Bingo! This must be Sang's room.
     As the house went still I made my approach. The television from the master could still be faintly heard but the woman had gone quiet, most likely asleep. The murmurs of the news reporter should cover any noise I might make. Ha ha! Noise, yeah right. No one ever hears me. I'm awesome like that.
The top of the garage had a nice flat roof to start from. Taking a running start, I used the side of the house to jump off of and leap silently on top of garage. I made my way around to the front of the house, to the dark window. The window was unlatched, a bit of a disappointment since I loved a challenge, it moved up slowly allowing me to push past the gauzy curtains and into the missing girl's room.
     The bedroom door was open a crack. I went to it, looking out to the dark hallway. I spotted a bathroom across the hall and one other closed door, most likely the other girl's bedroom. Silently closing Sang's door as well, I turned back to take in the room. One small bed with a tattered, thread-bare, green blanket, a small trunk and one book shelf were the only pieces of furniture in the room. The bed was neatly made, no dirty clothes littered the floor, not even a rug to decorate the space. Looking at the book shelf, I saw several well-loved paperbacks with bent spines organized alphabetically. Mostly classic novels, some mystery dramas, but I also spotted a book of fairytales, a book about Asian countries and some old hand-written notebooks. The notebooks were all written in some foreign script, Chinese maybe. A small stereo sat on an upper shelf beside a collection of CDs with generic cases, all burned discs from a computer. Inside the player another burned disc sat waiting to be played, simply titled Sang's Music Mix #7. At least I knew I was in the correct room. I used my phone to snap some pictures of a couple of the book titles and swiped a notebook and the CD, or three, before moving on.
     The closet was pretty bare: Two pares of shoes, a hand full of blouses and skirts hanging neatly, the top shelf held some folded underwear and bras, all the clothes were well-worn. Where are all her clothes? This is supposed to be a teenage girl's room, right? No posters on the wall, no magazines, no photographs, not even a dresser or one of those vanity things where girls put on make-up. I check the remaining piece of furniture, the trunk, only finding old clothes and some old school notebooks. Looking at some old homework, Sang was an "A" student, she got good marks from all her teachers. I checked under her mattress and came up empty but noticed a small half-door along the wall, like a storage or attic space. I ease the door open and click the flashlight on my key chain to look inside. It doesn't appear to have been used, too bad, it's a nice little hiding spot.
     I hear a door open, some dragging foot steps walking down the hall and the door to the bathroom close. I hurry, silently, out of Sang's door and take opportunity to cross the hall to look at the other girl's room.
     Whoa! This room is completely different. A messy bed with dark sheets is in the middle of the room, the top blanket mostly on the floor. A large dresser against the far wall has a few drawers open with clothes spilling out and a collection of pictures and jewelry scattered on top. The closet door is open with clothes half hanging on wire hangers or on the closet floor. Mostly t-shirts and jeans. A dirty plate and a cup half filled some an unknown liquid sat on the floor by the bed. A small instrument case, like a flute, sits on the floor by the door. Some sheet music is thrown disorganized on top of the case, the name Marie scribbled across the top of the pages. There are a couple band posters tacked up on the walls.
     I hear the toilet flush and hurry back across the hall to Sang's room. The water in the sink runs briefly and then the girl, Marie, walked back to her room and shut the door, never giving Sang's door a second glance.