Simpler Things

Part 21: Taken.

                    I felt the throbs of pain ripple across my skull. I had been hit in the head. I stirred and slowly opened my eyes with a groan. I looked around. The bench by the front door had moved 2 feet, like it was haphazardly thrown. I looked on the ground in front of me, my tazer gun lay there. The prongs that shot out lay, attached by wires, 6 feet away. I got up, wincing at my now forming headache. When I got up, I got the entire view of the scene. The side table was kicked aside, the chair also out of place. Something caught my eye, something shiny. Like a crow, I went to look at it. I crouched down and saw Megan's set of keys. There were maybe 20, she had bounced around before she found this town. She never talked a lot about her past. Megan. Panic spiked inside of me. I looked around, she was gone. All that was left were her keys. I felt light headed. And nauseous. Megan... Why would he take her? Why not me? She didn't play a part in this. Why didn't he take me? Wasn't he trying to get back at my father? Why Megan?
I had to call my father. I had to call the police. I ran and got the telephone and typed in my father's number. My hands shook as I brought the phone up to my ear. Finally, my father answered.
"Hello?"
"Dad, it's Alyson-"
"Are you home?"
"Yes, but-"
"Did you eat dinne-"
"DAD." I couldn't believe him. after a short silence he answered.
"Is that a no?"
"Megan's gone." I heard him breath.
"What?"
"Someone was here. He took her, she's gone. Why didn't he take me? Why-"
"Alyson. Stop. I'll be right over, stay safe." He said, in a calm but stern voice.
"Y-yeah... okay."
I heard him hang up the phone. The low tone rang through my head. The call had ended.

○○○

I sat on the stairs as my father talked to me. A couple of officers had come, and were looking at the scene.
"Do you think he left anything?" I asked.
"Hopefully. It's sloppy," I gave him a questioning look. "The way he did it."
"What about her keys?" I asked.
"What about them?"
"They were the only thing he left." I said, "I mean, she could've dropped them from the struggle." He nodded.
He walked off to talk with another police officer. The keys. I remeber months before, laying on her bed, she threw me those keys. I remeber she told me to lock her door when we left for ice cream... I remeber looking for the right key. I remeber feeling every silver key, searching for the right one. It was only a couple of months ago, I'd done the same thing dozens of times...
"Dad," I said, he looked away from the police officer.
"One second," He turned to me, "Yeah?"
"Can I see her keys?"
"Um... sure..." He waved towards one of the police officers, and said something to him. A couple minutes later he handed me a ziplock bag marked with a numbered code. I ignored it and studied the keys.
"What are you looking for?" My dad asked.
"I remeber what her keys looked like," I took a pause to look closer, "You said he never leaves enough clues for conviction, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Why would he leave these keys? Unless-"
"He wanted us to find him,"
"He'd leave a clue: not a large one, but one large enough for a lead." I continued to search the keys, one caught my eye. It was old, and heavily rusted, clashing against the silver of the rest. The key had three distinctive loops at the top, the end was a simple 2 pronged attachment. It was roughly attached, like it had only just been put on the silver ring holding all her other keys. It had a small engraving on the side, the rust was thinner.
"This one." I handed him the bag, the proper key right in the open. The other keys gleamed in the light.
"I'll see what forensics can do."
"That still doesn't answer the number 1 question," I mumbled, "Why Megan?" My father sighed and put a hand on my shoulder,
"She'll be fine, I promise, but we have to figure out where she is first."
"Do it quick," My dad furrowed his brows, I continued, "I don't think he'll wait."