Five teens. Kidnapped. To live out their darkest fears.
***
When five teenagers are abducted outside of the local nightclub, it sends shockwaves through the small town of Redstone.
How were they taken? Where are they...
"I would trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday." Falloutboy
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Sarah Walling watched as Greg Whitaker roamed the streets, howling his son's name as if he could bring him back by the sheer volume of his voice.
She glanced at her own method of coping; the bottle of vodka in her hand, its contents nearly empty. The clear liquid sloshed as she took another big gulp, feeling it burn all the way down her throat until it settled in her stomach.
Turns out, drowning out your despair didn't work when it screamed loud enough to smother you.
Pierce, her husband, entered the living room, finding her in the same position she had been when he left almost an hour ago to make a phone call. Standing vigil at the window as if waiting for her daughter to come home.
"She's on her way." He referred to Sydney, Sarah's other daughter, currently away at university. He tried to pry the vodka out of Sarah's hand, but she gripped onto it tighter, holding it like a security blanket.
"It will be okay, love." He dropped his hand from the bottle and instead reached up to wrap his arm around her waist, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder. She remained unmoving, unresponsive, as if he wasn't even there at all.
"We will find her." He tried again, desperate to snap her out of this awful silence that somehow seemed to speak louder than words.
"Why do you care?" She had finally spoken, but he wished that she hadn't, her words cut deeper than a knife.
"She's my daughter too."
"Stepdaughter." Sarah emphasized, as if he hadn't been a part of Savannah's life for the last thirteen years. "She's not yours! She's mine and she's gone. SHE'S GONE!" Her voice broke on the last word, and she threw the bottle as hard as she could.
It hit the wall, the glass shattering to pieces, the clear liquid staining the white paint, turning it to a pale grey colour that ran down in streaks.
Pierce tried to brush off her accusations, knowing that she didn't mean them. He loved his two stepdaughters, he always had. The fact that Savannah was missing tore him into shreds that littered the ground, mingling with the broken glass.
"I'm sorry, love." He muttered, the only consolation he could possibly offer, barely managing to catch his wife as she crumpled in on herself, the grief overtaking her.
He lowered her to the ground, sitting on the floor with her in his arms, rocking her back and forth as he softly stroked her hair while she wept into his shoulder.
"She's gone," Sarah repeated, a heart-breaking mantra. "She's gone."
Pierce couldn't find the words to comfort her, their marriage had always been based on honesty, and he didn't want to offer her false promises now. He hoped with all his heart that they would find Savannah, that she would come home, that he would get to see her again.
