The Fallen

Kevin

The doctor hadn't told me anything useful. My memory really was gone for no known reason. I was completely uninjured, and my DNA didn't match with anyone in town. Nobody was missing a seventeen year old son named Kevin, and I wasn't even in the city database.

Mrs. Dillon took the news calmly, almost as if she suspected this, saying I must have been an orphan. She asked the doctor if there was a way to be my legal guardian, and he gave her a few papers with the steps of how to adopt me.

Everything was moving so fast, too fast. I could barely keep up with what was going on. Mrs. Dillon dropped me off at the house while she was on her lunch break, and left me there for the rest of the day, letting me know that there were leftovers in the fridge in case I got hungry, and saying something about going to see her husband before going back to work.

I spent the rest of the day inside, sitting on the couch in the living room. I hadn't appreciated the house enough when Amirèe brought me in, the whole place was immaculate and clean. The Living room was gigantic, holding a black leather couch with a matching loveseat and recliner. There was a glass coffee table in the center, a black skeleton frame intricately curving the clear glass top.

The kitchen was smaller, but still roomy, with quartz counter tops and modern appliances. There was a white island in the center surrounded by six stools. The room was painted white and had pictures of the family hung up over the sink. Mrs. Dillon with her brown hair and purple eyes, Mr. Dillon with brown skin and a suit, a boy with caramel skin, curly hair, and purple eyes who must've been Alex. There was Corey with his sideways glasses and oval eyes, and of course Amirèe.

The bedroom I was in was painted light blue with a queen sized bed in its center. There was a full bathroom attached to it, and a big poster that must have been hand painted depicted what must've been Alex and Amirèe with angel wings, sitting cross legged and looking up at the sky. The sight of the picture always stung a little bit when I looked at it, as if the angel wings were deadly weapons instead of a beautiful painting.

Around four Mrs. Dillon came home with Corey bouncing happily behind her. When he saw me, his eyes darkened and he muttered, "Mom why is he still here?" Thinking I wouldn't hear him. An hour later Mr. Dillon walked in and sat on the recliner to the left of the room with a sigh, kicking off his shoes and leaning back.

It started getting dark soon after, and Amirèe still hadn't come home, so I started to worry. Her mother told me she was at track practice, so I stopped asking about her for a while until her mother started to look at the time on her phone every two seconds. It was maybe nine at night when Corey spoke what everyone else was thinking,

"Where's Mirèe? It's late and she hasn't eaten dinner yet." He looked from his mom to his dad, eyes bright with unshed tears. "She's coming home, right?"

"She'll be back in a few sweetie. Why don't you go upstairs and get ready for bed? I'll call her now." His mom ushered him upstairs and nearly ran back to the living room.

"I'm calling the police." Mr. Dillon was already dialing 911 before Mrs. Dillon could voice her fears. My heart dropped to the floor.

"I'm going to go look for her." I rushed upstairs and grabbed a pair of her brother's tennis shoes before making my way outside.

Her mom stopped me on the porch, clasping my wrist in her hand. "You could get lost, just wait, I'll get the car." She popped out of eyesight for a few minutes before reappearing with her car keys.

We climbed into her car and she started circling the neighborhood, both of us searching for any sign of her. Mrs. Dillon kept calling her phone, never getting an answer, and with every second that we didn't find her I felt sicker. What if something happened?

After a while, I couldn't take it anymore. "Where's her school at?" I asked her mother, taking off my seatbelt and unlocking the car door.

"Are you walking? I don't want you to get lost."

"Where is it? I might see something on foot we wouldn't notice in the car."

"Walk down St. Peters and turn right on Emilia Avenue." Her mom pulled over without any more opposition, allowing me to get out the car. "Take my phone, and call my husband if anything happens, okay?"

"I will." I took the phone and started down St. Peters, desperately searching for signs of Amirèe. After walking for three blocks I heard a ringtone, which was weird because there weren't any people around. I followed the sound of it, walking a few more feet until a blue flat rectangle was buzzing and singing at my feet about how the world was a beautiful lie. It was undeniably Amirèe's.

I picked it up from the ground, despair filling my lungs so much that it was hard to breathe. I answered it, and her father spoke frantically from the other end. "Amirèe? My baby, where are you?"

I nearly choked. It was so hard to speak. "I found her phone, but I don't see her anywhere." Those were the most painful words I'd ever said, my voice was unrecognizable to my own ears.

"Kevin? Oh no, no, no, you're sure? You don't see her?" His voice cracked, and I could practically hear the tears fall down his face. I didn't need to answer for him to know. She wasn't here.

"I'm gonna keep looking, I promise I won't stop until I find her." I clicked the phone off and kept walking straight. If her phone was there, maybe she was nearby. When I reached Emilia Avenue, I turned right just as Mrs. Dillon had instructed and stopped. Her backpack was laying in the middle of the sidewalk, and there was no sign of her. I slung her bag over my shoulder and made my way back from where I had come, walking in a daze. I knocked on the door to the house and her mother answered, eyes full of tears.

When she saw the look on my face she broke down in a fit of heartbreaking sobs. It was enough to send me nearly running back outside after handing her phone back and dropping Amirèe's bag. I kept Amirèe's phone though, just in case I found her.

I had no idea where I was running to or why, but I just kept going. Mrs. and Mr. Dillon's emotions spurring me to keep going. I would find her, nothing would stop me from finding her. She had saved my life, shown me kindness, and despite my protesting, she was determined to help me. She was there when I needed her most, and now I would be there for her. I would save her, because the feeling in my gut let me know that she was in trouble.

I had no idea how long I'd been running, or walking, or moving, but I stopped dead right in front of an abandoned warehouse. Even the streetlights were out, and the whole area was empty of life. Abandoned businesses and houses dotted dead and wild lawns, and I could've sworn I saw a light flicker off inside the factory.

If I had control over my actions, I would've called the police, but I just moved forward, steps echoing loudly on the concrete. She had to be here. She had to. It would be the perfect place to hide someone you've kidnapped. I just hoped she would be alright, that nothing happened to her.

I tried the front door, and it came open easily, as if welcoming me. The door shut behind me, which was weird unless the wind had blown it closed. I shrugged it off as wind and turned to keep walking through the darkness.

I didn't notice the knife until it was centimeters from my throat.