Stories Spun by Scenes

The End

A/N: For those of you who have read my book 50 Pictures and are simply skipping to this part, there are a few things I have gone through and changed in the other stories. This is simply the combination of the fifteen stories I posted before this one, in an attempt to make all of the pieces connect. This is still a work in progress and I plan on going back to add more details. As I said: this is woven by fifteen stories and fifteen pictures, so if you've read the ones before this: try and find how they connect! Thanks to all who have read and enjoy!<3

Things are stolen all the time. In school, minor things like candy, pencils, and pens are stolen. Food is stolen. Belongings, money, and personal items. Animals and people are stolen. Friends, boyfriends, and girlfriends. Hearts, ideas, and feelings. Valuables, art, and hard work. Loved ones, children, and family members are stolen. Whether by robbers, kidnappers, thieves, or the Grim Reaper himself. Things are stolen all of the time, and only about fifty eight percent of all humans are hopeful enough to seek some form of return from the things stolen from them…

“I’m telling you, I watched her walk into that water and disappear!” a fierce blond with emerald green eyes shouted to the stern policeman, as she banged her hand on the metal desk to display her frustration. “You’re telling me you can’t file a missing person’s report because it hasn’t been twenty four hours? That was my sister! I know what happened, I was there!”

The girl was rapidly speaking to the blasé officer trying to keep her voice strong and steady. You could tell she was trying to come off as powerful and demanding attention, but in her eyes you could see faint dropplets beginning to form in her eyes. You could sympathize though, of course, because she was only worried for her sister. Two hours ago they had gone to their secret hide out together, and one hour ago she had noticed she was alone.

The girl hated herself for being her usual unworried self, because maybe if she had her beloved sister would still be here. She replayed her own words that she thought promoted her sister’s demise.  “You just going to stand there? I bet you’re hot, why don’t you go for a swim?”

“Ma’am, you’re in hysterics, and I’m going to have to ask you to take a seat. We have other matters to attend to,” a solid deep voice spoke to the girl, collecting her back to reality.

“Other matters to attend to?! Something more important than a lost girl who vanished only an hour ago?!” she screeched, her voice pronouncing her disproval in the police officers.

“Yes,” he muttered, meeting her eyes with a stern gaze before ushering her to a seat in the lobby of the police station. She willingly collapsed into the uncomfortable plastic chairs, crossing her arms, pouting, and grumbling like a child sentenced to time out.

The chief of police wandered away from the girl. He tried to rush his footsteps to get back to the files awaiting him on his desk. One file, in particular, was the most pressing. He wanted to help the girl, Kirsten- was it?- but the officials higher than him required he attend to this first. His eyes skimmed over the important words in the news files and claims.

Okefenokee Swamp…Abandoned fisherman boat…No sign of victims anywhere….call from fish monger agency…two employees were fishing…didn’t return…no leads…no known suspects…

The officer cursed a few profanities, sighing and shaking his head, tapping and clicking away on his lap top for some clue. That information was all the police had, and he wondered how in God’s name could he possible solve this case with that scrap of knowledge?

So instead, he made a call that no one else would approve of, but it was his choice. He decided he didn’t care if this got him fired, he was on the police force to save lives, and the best, most logical decision was to go find that girl’s sister.