MIA - REDONE FOR NANOWRIMO 2019

MIA - UNFINISHED PART OF NANOWRIMO 2019

"So, tell me about Jess." The therapist talked about her like she was gone - never coming back. Timmy growled at the questions in his mind; but answered honestly despite his want to lie and get this over with. The young-adult let his eyes wander around the room, seeing a multitude of items. A picture of the therapist in his own office - how charming, several posters with inspirational quotes like 'You're enough!' and 'You can do it!' cluttered the egg-shell white walls. His lips parted, and he began the tale of woe that was Jessica Myers.

First, however. To talk about Jess without Timmy; would be like telling a bard to sing his song without an instrument to the public. Timothy Dan Nicholson was the son of a Christian father; Mr. James Nicholson, a pastor - And Ms. Lilith Brees, a Catholic who merely followed her husband like a robot. Timothy was born on Tuesday, September 17, 1996. He was younger than Jess by only a few months. He had grown to a full 5'10" in his life, and weighed one-hundred-and-fifty pounds and two ounces. Tim had high cheekbones and a rather attractive appearance. Clear skin, dark brows, blue eyes that seemed to match his button-type nose and rounded lips. A normal dark-brunette American teen! He'd also had a major crush on Jess since he was twelve years old. To call it more than a crush at that age is false - however, the two did almost have a romantic relationship. At least it would seem it to anyone else that looked upon them. To them...Or, to Jess, it was nothing more than a blossoming friendship. Now, back to the interesting parts.

The two had been friends since birth; and that was thanks to their parents. Whenever Jessica's mom, Anna Lambert. A claimed "die-hard" Christian - who usually remarried at least every two years. (That "faith" must come from between her legs.) And moved to a different area of town. Jessica's dad, Aaron Myers, wasn't exactly present besides holidays and birthdays, and Jess never told Tim why. (It was actually because he was 'destroying her mother's faith'. **Quote; Anna Lambert to a co-worker the day after she kicked him out.** Usually within two or three days of that move Tim's parents would tell him to pack up his things, and that they were also moving. Any 'goodbye' the two children shared was never for long, a month at most.

"Then, one day when we were hanging out in my bedroom - She asked me that if she ever went missing, if I'd find her. I didn't see it in time, but she was foreshadowing her own disappearance." Timmy told his therapist, who merely nodded and had an 'I'm listening with intent' scowl on her face; Miss T. wasn't much of a people person, despite being a therapist. She liked the pay, and chance to gossip about her patients. Timmy called her 'Miss T." for two reasons: T for 'talkative' and T for 'tits'. Tim thought she had a nice rack - He thought she was beautiful even without them; but they definitely helped. "Go on." Miss T. comments. Tim begins again. "I mean, everyone thinks she's dead - the whole cities' given up on finding her. What more is there to say?" The youth was agitated; his best friend (and crush, little known to Jess) went missing nearly two months ago, and already people were calling it quits? That and his deadbeat pastor father preaching this morning about how 'photography isn't a job it's a hobby'. Miss T. scribbled on her notebook, and looked up at him. "Do you think maybe, just maybe, you're not giving up because of the fact that you two never said 'goodbye' for long, and always saw each other again? "Tim wanted to throw a swing at her for that. Her too? Did everyone really think that she was gone? Instead of answering the question, he throws a glare at Miss T. "Yeah, for sure, she just asked if I'd come find her for fun - to torture me - after she suddenly predicts her own disappearance." He snorted at her, his face red from pulsing anger building up. He might have to patch a hole in his wall when he got home. "Forgive me, I didn't mean it.-" Tim rolled his eyes, which stopped her. "Yeah-yeah! I know, didn't mean it....so instead you'll assess what I want to hear - and instead say that..." He mocks her - honestly? The only reason he even made it to this session was because his dad drove him. "Can we be done here?" He asks her without hesitation. "I have sleuthing I could be doing." Tim stands before she can even answer 'yes' and makes his way to the door. "Oh hey, Miss T?" Tim turns before the door to face her. "Yes, Timmy?" "Call my dad, tell him I'm done here.' He opens the door, and slams it behind him.