Honor the Horrors of the Internet

Horror of R.

Four days ago my brother, Alan, disappeared.

I was with him at the mall, and he went to use the restroom while we were eating. Once I finished my lunch I walked over to the restroom he was at and waited right outside of the bathroom.

I waited for over 45 minutes before I walked in and called out his name. There wasn't an answer. I looked through all of the stalls and they were all empty. I tried calling his cell phone 3 times before I called the cops and reported that my 13-year-old brother was missing. Three hours later, I was hugging my mother while she sobbed into my chest. I had to let go of her when she started to punch me as hard as she could while screaming, "You're 24 and you can't take care of your teenage brother, Daniel? What the fuck is wrong with you. Why are you so goddamn irresponsible?"

I wanted to scream at my mother and tell her it wasn't my fault, but I held my tongue and just stared at her while she continued to hit me half-heartedly and stop every couple of seconds to let out a sob. I couldn't scream at her or tell her to stop hitting me because my brother was the last person living with my mother. My father passed away when I was 2 and I moved out last year. She always loved my little brother a little more, but it never really bugged me. Alan was the best child any parent or brother could ever hope for.

I haven't talked to my mother since then. Well, my mother refused to answer any of my phone calls and has managed to completely avoid me even though we live less than 2 miles away from each other. I spent the last couple of days hanging up fliers, posting Alan's picture with every single description I could think of on all social media platforms, and answering every single phone call with a sliver of hope that my brother was found. I took a week off of work and drove around every single street in our city as well as the surrounding cities. All of my attempts were a waste. Three days went by without a single answer. Yesterday morning I woke up to the sound of my ringtone going off. I slowly got up from my bed and walked to my desk and picked up my phone. My phone seemed to be bugging up because my phone popped up on the caller ID, but I was desperate for any type of help. I picked up the phone and a small child said in a cheeky tone, "Your brother is playing with us, and he wanted to know if you can take him back home!" I started to say that I wanted to, but the person hung up the phone and I was left with the sound of the dial tone.

I tried calling the number back, but it just kept going to my voicemail. After my fifth try, I dialed in 911 and hit dial. The phone rang three times before I heard someone breathing slowly into the phone. After a couple of seconds, I lost my patience and said, "Hello? I just received a call from my Alan's kidnappers. Can you please send someone out to my house? I live in" A gruff male voice cut me off and said, "It sounds like my son gave you a call. Your brother is safe, but if you try to call the cops again we will end your brother's life, and if you decide to give up we will end both of your lives. However, If you do everything we tell you to do, we will drop Alan off at your house unharmed. Are you ready to begin now or would you like to give up now?"

I put the phone on speaker and brought my phone down. A feeling of dread hit me when I looked at the screen and saw my number on the screen. The man chuckled before saying, "By the look on your face I can tell that you are starting to get scared. Oh, you poor poor pale-faced child. Your phone is now controlled by not only you but us as well. We can see whatever you are doing as well as what numbers you are calling. If you try to call people we don't want you to call we will direct the call back to us and you will either be given a warning or hear Alan dying. Don't think about getting rid of the phone, because if you do, we will kill both of you. Are you ready to start now?"

I nodded my head and the man said, "Good. Wait until we call you again." before he hung up the phone. It took everything out of me to not try calling the police again. I wanted to somehow let them know, but I knew they were probably watching me. I could have just tried putting the phone in my pocket and finding another phone to call the police with, but I knew that wouldn't fix anything. For over two hours I paced around my living room and held my phone in my hand. When the phone starting ringing, I answered the call and nervously said, "Hello?"