The Vanishing of Brandyn Taylor

Where are you Brandyn?

I hadn't heard from Brandyn in a few weeks. That in itself wasn't all that unusual these days, but what was unusual was he had missed our meeting. A while back we had arranged a date to see each other again, at our favourite coffee shop in the middle of town. I often went there without him, either on my own or with Rachel. It was cosy, not too many tables, and they never minded if I nursed a coffee for an hour, while reading. Sometimes I liked to sit there and people watch, trying to guess what jobs they had, or if they were married. I'd try and come up with crazy ideas for them sometimes, like thinking the guy in the dark blue coat looks like a serial killer. Brandyn often joined in, and the ideas we threw back and forwards, between ourselves, would grow more and more outrageous the longer we played the game.

I'd told Rachel where I was going, and said I would be back by four at the latest. I left with more than enough time, I wanted to just take a slow walk that day, so left earlier than I usually would have. It was a crisp winter day, I could see my breath rising up in curling puffs, until it thinned out and disappeared, to be replaced by my next breath. I tugged my hat lower down over my ears, pulled my arms into my coat sleeves more, (one day I would remember to bring my gloves out with me) and dipped my head slightly, to try and minimise the amount of cold wind that hit the exposed parts of my face. It was actually quite a bit colder out than I had thought, and I was already wishing I'd gone with my thick, long, wool coat like I had initially done. (I'd changed my mind at the last minute, shrugged that coat off and put on a slightly lighter jacket. Lighter and much less warm!) I was already feeling the cold bite at my hands and face, and my feet were starting to feel it too, despite my thick fluffy socks.
Slowly I trudged through the snow, some of it turned to brown slush, and thought about seeing my best friend again. I had something I wanted to share with him, my therapist, Marcus, felt that I could lower the dose on some of my meds, if things kept as stable for me as they currently were. It was a big thing for me, I had never had my doses lowered before, ever since I was first prescribed a myriad of drugs all the doctors has done was keep increasing the doses, or change me on to different tablets or injections altogether. This was a huge turning point for me, it meant things were getting better, or at least they weren't getting any worse anymore. I'd been trying really hard lately in my therapy sessions, and day groups. I wanted things to change, to lead a more normal life again like I had when I was younger. So much was better back then, before life happened.

I arrived at the coffee shop fifteen minutes early, and after checking Brandyn wasn't there yet, I picked a table on the back corner, one with a very plush armchair either side of it. I planned on getting comfy, and wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Phil, the owner, had waved at me as I'd walked in.

"Take a seat Kiera," he said, "I'll bring your usual over to you."

I thanked him as I passed, and took my coat off, throwing it over the back of the armchair, and laying my scarf on top of it. Phil soon brought my vanilla latte over to me, with a little biscuit on the side of the saucer, the ones in a small individual packet.

"Thanks Phil, hows things today?" I smiled at him.

"Slow, I think the snow's keeping a lot of people inside today, nice and warm and snug at home."

"Yeah maybe. It's bloody cold out there. Not many people crazy enough to brave this snow and wind."

"Ahh but there are a few that are eh?" He laughed at me.

Phil knew a little of my medical history. I'd been coming here ever since I could remember, way before Rachel and I rented the flat together. We'd become friends with each other, Phil and I. On the really quiet days he would often grab himself a coffee, and come and sit with me for a chat. I liked Phil, even though he was older than me. (He was in his late fourties when I had first started visiting the coffee shop, so must be in his sixties by now.) He didn't work there as much these days, saying he was letting the staff do more of the work so he could wind down towards his retirement.