Reality

Clarity

They were gone. They had been for a year now. Not a single trace. He was at the park, and Danielle had gone not 10 feet away to get him some ice cream. But he was gone. No crying, no screaming, just gone.

She called me first. Her voice was shaky and on the edge of crying. It was hard for me to believe her. But even as she was talking, I had grabbed my jacket and car keys, rushing out of the office.

By the time I got to the park, she was curled up on a bench, tears staining her face. I walked over and wrapped my arms around her. She clung to me as if her life depended on it.

I asked her cautiously if she had already called the police. She shook her head, so I slowly got up before pulling out my cell phone and calling them myself.

It seemed to be a blur when they arrived. My wife had been crying the entire time. Talking to the police, I felt like a robot, relaying everything that my wife had told me. They assured us that they would find him. That he had probably just wandered off. But Danielle and I knew that that wasn't the case.

They asked for our phone numbers to contact us if they find anything and told us to go home.

"You aren't going to be able to help us now," an officer said, "so go home and get some rest. We'll take care of everything."

So we went home. We went home and cried. Cried every night for weeks. But after a while, Danielle started growing cold. No progress had been made on the case. All that was fact now, was that he was taken. And after a few months of no progress, the police stopped looking, people stopped praying, everyone just started to move on. And so did my wife.

I remember waking up that morning and feeling that something was off. I rolled over in the bed and she was gone. 

Danielle was gone.

And in her place, was a singe sheet of paper. I picked it up carefully, already dreading whatever was written.

"Dear Aaron,

I'm sorry. I just don't have the heart to stay anymore. It's been months. And I want to move on. But I just can't do that with you. So I'm leaving. By the time you're done reading this, I'll already be long gone. Don't bother trying to find me. You won't. Ever since Ethan's case was moved to the pile of lesser importance, I've been thinking about doing what I am now. Please just move on with your life, and I'll move on with mine. Goodbye."

I was shaking. Tears running down my face in steady streams. My heart shattered. First I lost my son, and now I lost my wife. 

Before I even knew it, I had made it to the kitchen, grabbing all the beer and hard liquor I could. Walking onto the back porch, I sat down on the love seat that I had shared with Danielle not two nights ago. There was no point. No point to keep living, and yet I couldn't find it in me to give up.

I was about to take my first sip of beer when I jolted awake. There was a banging on the front door, matching pace with the pounding in my head. I got up and shuffled through the house, headed to the front door. When I got there and opened it, there were two police officers standing there.

"Afternoon sir. Are you Aaron Dixon?"

"Yes." I slurred out.

"Well," The second officer started, "we have some news for you."

"What is it?" I asked.

"We found your son."

The world suddenly snapped into focus. My reality just got so much better.