The List

One by One

Half the names on the list had already been crossed off. The list was sent to me by an unknown text. I wanted to call the number, but it wasn't a real number. Only 5 digits long. The kind of number that would typically text when you have to verify something. This number wasn't asking for verification. It was a list of names. Names I knew. Names of people I care for. I didn't think much of the text when I originally received it. I assumed it was a party list. I wondered who's party or what occasion. I called the closest person on my list. Their phone ranged, then I was forward to voicemail. That's not like her to send me to voicemail. If she can't answer the phone, she would send a text telling me she'll call back. But, voicemail? That's not like her. I am worried now.

Gathering my things I hop into my car and drive to her place. I don't remember her saying she had anything to do this weekend. I pull up to her house... it looks sad. I don't know if it's me who feels sad projecting that feeling onto the house I see in front of me. I resign to believing it's me being worried for nothing. I get out of the car and walk up to the door, turning the knob. The door doesn't budge... this is weird. The door stays unlocked and today it's locked. I knocked and ranged the doorbell. No response from my best friend. I call her phone again. This time I hear it ringing inside. I peek through the windows on the door, but no movements inside. I only hear the sound of the phone calling for attention. I am beginning to panic, but telling myself I am overreacting. I leave the front door and walk to the garage door, keying in the passcode to enter from the garage. The door opens slowly, like it's revealing some secret. Her car is missing. Why would she leave her phone. Something's wrong. I call her mom.

"Hey it's Sasha, I've been trying to reach Joanne. I keep getting voicemail."

She interrupted me, "Me too."

"Yea, I'm at her place now and her car isn't in the garage."

Now her voice sounds more concerned than before. "Stay there, I'll call the police and be right over."

That was the longest ten minute wait ever. When someone you love is missing, so many random thoughts run through your mind. The first to show was her mom. I was still standing in front of the garage with the doors opened. I haven't gone inside. I was hoping she was just asleep, but I feel deep in my heart she isn't inside at all. The police car arrived a few minutes later. Two men stepped out of the car. Joanne's mom walks over to them introducing herself and explaining the situation at hand. My best friend is missing and we have to find her. After the discussion of the problem at hand they, the policemen and Joanne's mom, walks over to me.

The first officer asks, "Have you been inside ma'am?"

I shake my head no. Words aren't coming out. My brain is frozen in time.

"When was the last time you saw her?" the officer asks again. I must not have heard his question the first time.

Joanne's mom chimes in, "We spoke on the phone early yesterday. She is supposed to have the day off today."

"We spoke last night. It wasn't anything important. Just chatting. I tried to call her this morning, but my calls were going to voicemail. When I came here I noticed her car is missing, but her phone is inside." I finally say.

"Was the garage door open?" the officer ask.

"No, I opened it when I heard her phone ringing inside. I thought she was home, but asleep. I called her mom when I saw her car missing." I replied

Joanne's mom added, "I called you. That is not like my child to leave her phone. It's her life line."

The second officer express, "Stay here while we check out the house." He called into their dispatch using their police coded words and a female digital voice respond back. They get into position to the house door inside the garage. Only one enters. The other stands by the door, like a look out. After about twenty or thirty minutes, the officer comes back out.

"No one is inside. The place looks untouched." They speak coded words again into their police walkies then tell us to come down to the station to fill out a report. 

To Be Continued...