It happened in an instant, according to my memory, that my life changed forever.
It was June 15th, 1993.
I was only eight years old. My mother was pulling herself up more and more as timed passed since my dad had left. One day, on this very particular day, she decided to take us to a new diner that opened in a plaza for a summer treat. Judging from the distance between our residential area and the commercial area, that opportunity came very scarcely and my eight-year-old self was all for it.
We rode down an empty, winding road with acres of wild forest on both sides and suddenly like I had expected, it came, my favorite part of each ride.
We approached a bridge made of stone and cement laced together perfectly by previous construction workers, stretching over a wide river that I was sure spread through most of the state. It wasn't the bridge that caught my attention. If you looked down, you could see the rivers strong current ripping through the large rock next to the bridge barely visible from the car that seemed to disappear little by little, each day.
Suddenly without much warning on this peaceful day, an SUV with no particular characteristics rammed into us with a flood of force that sent us skidding to the very edge of the bridge. The car barely hanging on the edge. My vision was a blur and it took many seconds to recover my vision. My vision returned only to see my sister hanging on one arm, where the door was gone and the railing hung barely, screaming in terror.
My happy life truly ended when her fingers slipped from the edge of the car door, from the edge of that railing.
The only thing that they found hours after they arrived was her shoes. Her faded, torn red shoes.
.
.
.
Upon reading the note, we were overcome with hope. Hope that seemed to have disappeared a long time ago. We have a chance! It was filling my mind, creating fake memories of going to the police, and being reunited with my mom. There is no way we're going to let it slip through our grasp. Not now.
"Where do you think we can go? Where could the lock be?" June looks around the room frantically seeming to get the same hope as I did. But what if this is just another trick? The idea pierced through the desperation, but sadly I can't start having second thoughts. I can't let this chance go. Not for a second.
We ran.
Tip
And ran.
Tap
Searching.
Tip
Hoping.
Tap
Laughing.
Finally, after many rooms and desire feeding our emotions more and more by the second, we reached a chilly room filled with dusty textbooks and two old classroom desks and hoarded to the brim with paper, binders, and pencils covered in dust from long ago. Despite the dust, it seemed as though someone was studying in the same desk and in the same chair just a few minutes ago.
June coughs in the background sending plumes of dust into the air empathizing the amount. Before any of us could send a single comment, June proceeds to put down the book she had picked up that had also caused her small cough. Michael shouts nervously, "Look for the trapdoor!"
We scramble around the room, searching for what could save us. Anything at all will do. More preferably the trapdoor. I walk around the side of the desks, observing their surfaces, analyzing every detail. One of the many things I noticed was that various class notes and assignments bared the same name in the same handwriting:
Margaret Jeanette Keller
The closet...Open the closet...
I suddenly turn my head to see a narrow door, begging to be opened. My hand reaches for the knob without even questioning why. The closet door creaked and simply was another reminder that this room was too run down for its own good.
"I can't believe it! I really can't believe this!" My heart rose from my chest at the sight before me.
I have found the door! The small squared but lifesaving door! It was almost too easy. "June, get the key! Quick! I found the trapdoor!" The happiness of my voice was very apperant, but who couldn't be glad. Finally, out of this hell hole.
June grabbed a nearby chair and climbed on it to reach the lock with her key. She slowly inserted the key and turned the lock cautiously and
the lid popped open very slowly.
It sounded like a gunshot, the type from a starting gun at a race or marathon. It sounded like a war drum, stirring up a soldier's emotions to prepare for battle. Like a hardcover book hitting the concrete. Like a pencil breaking from tension during an exam. Whatever the sound resembled, it still awakened something inside me. Something lost.
But, there is not a drum in the world that could prepare me to see this.
In a literal blink of an eye, June disappeared from the chair in front of me. Michael was no longer next to me and with these sudden realizations the urge to turn around took over as I swing around.
I screamed in terror, I whispered to myself in despair.
"...What?...No, this isn't real...this isn't reality, Andrew!!"
I begged this to be a dream. I kneeled, I pleaded, I cried for this to be a dream.
"...This is reality, Andy..."
My sister walks up with her so familiar face from behind me.
She puts a hand on my shoulder empathizing some type of reassurance. "You did this."
"NO! I would never, you liar!"
She simply shakes her head. "I tell the truth." Her eyes send chills down my spine.
She's smiling.
Super super super super special thanks to RandomWriting123 for helping me with this chapter! Go follow her she's a talented writer!
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The Final Exam
Mystery / ThrillerA telephone rings. It's eerie song emanating through the entire room. As I reluctantly pick up the phone, I can't help but feel I've done this before. Music. "Hello Margaret." She says it in such a way that it becomes clear to you she's smiling on t...
