The Disappearance and Reappearance Of Mr. Kingsley

The Disappearance

Our story begins on a dark and lonely night in the midst of the windy October. Leaves crunch on the ground as James Kingsley makes his way out of work.

The school wasn't much to behold, but it was a job he could easily keep. The children were bright, but not quite as bright as one student he had, Michael.

Michael was that of a simple boy. His hair gelled back and clean, ironed clothes always stuck to his back. If James could go back and warn one student, one person, it would've been Michael. His Michael deserved more than what he got by staying in their little, quaint town. Where the most heinous crime ever committed was a shoplifting done by a mislead teenage boy, seven years before Mr. Kingsley's disappearance.

He taught that student as well. He taught many students, even in his short time of sanity. James was brilliant enough to make it out of that town, too. It's a shame he didn't. There is much to be ashamed about in terms of his choices; before and after his, quite peculiar, dissipation.

James had a fiancé whom he loved at that time. The possibilities were all there: a family, security, a peaceful life. Alas, he could not have any of those things. If that was his own fault is unknown, and that secret will be buried deep within his soul. Although, most say he doesn't even have one at all.

But, before the madness, he was a quiet man. Petite, yes, but strong-willed. Even if that may not have been the case during those four years away. Away from his fiancé, his students, his job, his life as a whole, and for what? The question of the hour. More like the question of the decade. The mystery rages on.

He solemnly walked the school's hallways, having little regard for the dropping temperature. His satchel rested atop his shoulder and glided down towards his waist, carrying books, papers to grade, and the like. Although, there may have been more in that bag of his. Yet another question left unanswered.

No matter how much one speculates the way he walked, spoke, dressed, laughed, or anything he ever did, it never gave even a hint of what he was hiding. And we only know of some secrets, let alone the deadly ones. From what we gather, he was either a miraculous liar, or he truly was who he claimed he was.

James Kingsley. It may have not even been his real name. Perhaps an alias, perhaps not. So many things were left undone. Unfinished. Years of trying and trying again to finish that very spectacle, but maybe we are not supposed to know what he did those four years and six months. Maybe it would be too much to bear. From what we do know, that is probably the fact of the matter.

The security tapes of the night he went missing were not different nor special. It seemed like any other night he would work.

At 6:07 PM he, presumably, completed his grading and packed up his things.

At 6:12 he walked out of his classroom, walking like normal, looking normal, and acting completely and utterly, normal.

At 6:15 he stopped to take a small sip at the water fountain.

At 6:16 he resumed walking and walked out of the school into the darkness of the vacant parking lot.

His car never started, never leaving the lot. All his possessions in his apartment, still there. His fiancé, waiting for him at home with no knowledge of what was happening.

And that was the last of James Kingsley for four years, six months, and two hours.