I walked through the field I always took home from school, still in shock as I reread the letter the principal demanded I take home to my parents. Suspended? Suspended? The fight wasn’t even my fault! I threw down my arms and winced at the pain that echoed through my body. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, to break or hurt something. Wasn’t it bad enough that my sister was taken from me? Now I’d have to explain my black eye and bruises to Mom and Dad.
I scoffed to myself. Like they’d believe that either.
It had only been several weeks since Immy disappeared, and already my life was turning to shit.
By the time my parents got home on Halloween night, I was sitting on the porch out of my mind. I’d passed out in the basement and woke up to find the strange door still there with no sign of the monster or Immy. I was so terrified that I burst through the window and pulled myself out of there.
When they asked me what happened I tried telling them the truth, but of course they didn’t buy my crazy story. Mom and Dad stormed through the house, searching every nook and cranny for Immy, but she wasn’t anywhere. I told them to look in the basement; though the strange door was gone, they observed the unlocked basement door and broken glass by the window with an excuse for everything.
If I didn’t find the key to the basement door, then Immy did, and I was a neglectful brother. The broken glass was obviously due to an intruder breaking in. And my injuries, well, sure I could’ve tried to fight off the kidnapper, but they didn’t really care at that point.
Mom went into hysterics, yelling at me for being so careless, so stupid and inattentive. Dad simply went mute, like he’d never spoken a word in his life. My parents called the police, but I already knew how that would go.
The police and search parties couldn't find Immy. Shortly after that, the whole town was in an uproar when the FBI rolled in. They said something about recurring child disappearances over the past few decades. I was shocked and hopeful when they arrived, but even they came up short.
My sister’s disappearance made the local news. The nearby TV Station even had an interview with Dad; Mom couldn’t talk about Immy for more than a few seconds without getting emotional. I tried telling the reporter the truth, but the second I mentioned a monster he laughed and Dad apologized for having a kid with such an ‘overactive imagination.’ Instead, I was typecast as a careless big brother who didn’t give two craps about his family. You can imagine how a small town like mine ate that up.
School got worse every day. The other kids gave me dirty looks, elbowed me in the halls, or pushed me into lockers. I tried to maintain my innocence, but things just kept getting worse. Today I finally snapped and punched one of my tormentors in the face. I just couldn’t take it anymore. And now here I was, walking home in shame.
The end of the field was just ahead. I readied myself to cross the road to my street, and a car approached. As it neared, the backseat windows rolled down. I recognized the ugly faces of two of the bullies at school that had been giving me all kinds of hell.
“Sister killer, sister killer!” they screamed.
One of them hurled something at me before they sped by. I couldn’t tell what it was until the Big Gulp exploded all over me, drenching me from head to toe.
I fell to the ground with a thud, tears already in my eyes. I screamed at myself and slapped my face. Why was I such a damn baby? I was weak. Nobody cared what had happened. No one thought about my sister. I was all alone.
I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees, burying my face in them as I sobbed. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t move on without Immy. She was my baby sister. I was supposed to protect her, and I’d failed. An image of my little sister defying the monster flashed in my mind.
My tears stopped. I had to be strong like Immy. I couldn’t keep feeling sorry for myself. I had two options now. I could either let what that monster did go or I could stand up and figure it out for myself. I wiped at my eyes, stood up, and grabbed my backpack. I would find my sister and bring her back. There had to be a way.
I stood at the edge of the field for a moment, thinking on what to do. Immy had gone missing. Should I tell the FBI my story? I shook my head. I doubt they’d listen to my crazy story about a monster in the basement and take me seriously. The reporter hadn’t.
No, there had to be something else. Wait, they ran reports on kids that went missing, didn’t they? Maybe there was information I hadn’t seen, something that could lead me back to her. Whatever the case, the library was a good starting place. Still, I hesitated. The library was a few miles from here. Too long to walk there and back. I’d have to stop home and grab my bike.
I crossed the street and walked up my driveway. For some odd reason, my parents were already home. Curious, I was just about to walk in when the weight of the now-soggy letter from the principal in my hand drew my attention.
If I went inside, I’d have to explain what happened. Would they really let me go to the library right after getting suspended from school? I backed away from the front door and peeked inside one of the windows looking into the dining room.
Mom was sitting at the table with Dad. She was laughing about something and seemed totally fine. Dad looked like his former self, cheerful even. They leaned across the table for a kiss, and I left the window with a bitter taste in my mouth.
What was wrong with my parents? Immy had only been gone a few weeks, and they were moving on like nothing happened. How could they sit around gabbing when she might still be alive?
I snuck around to the backyard and sped over to the library on my bike. When I walked in, old Mrs. Greeley the librarian greeted me. She was a walking cliche, from her horn-rimmed glasses and tight bun all the way to her shoulder-padded jacket and knee-length skirt.
She was a lot older than most of these books, but was always nice to me. She helped show me where to find recent newspaper copies that may have further updates on Immy’s search as well as the catalog of missing children’s reports.
I started researching the newspapers and the most recent report that included Immy, but my heart sunk when I didn’t find anything helpful. I wanted to stop right there, but something told me to keep going.
I continued reading over other missing children’s reports from the past few years, and that’s when I began to see similarities between Immy’s disappearance and theirs.
Almost every year around fall time, a couple of kids went missing in town. Most of them had been around my age, but in some cases a younger kid vanished. In all of the missing children reports, each kid disappeared when they were left home alone or with a sibling. It didn’t make any sense. Why were kids going missing every year? Obviously whatever this monster was, it preyed around this time of year. But that didn’t explain how this was happening in the first place or why the FBI hadn’t figured it out by now.
I tried to look further into the articles I’d read, but none of the parents or surviving children had said anything more than that their kid or sibling was gone. There were follow-up articles on the search party efforts and FBI involvement, but in time each case was called off with no results. It was bizarre. What was really going on here?
I was nearly going crossed-eyed poring over more articles and reports when I flipped over an especially dull page. A small newspaper cutout flew out onto the floor, and I bent over to pick it up.
According to the brief article, a little kid named Danny went missing four years ago. Unlike the other reports I’d read, this one said that his big brother Trent kept insisting that a beast had taken his brother from their basement.
My heart pounded in my chest. This Trent kid may have seen what I’d seen before Immy was taken away. Could he know something more than I did? Would he be willing to tell me what happened? I read over the article three more times, jotting down the most important details. Luckily the story gave his last name, which was an odd one at that: Duffie.
There were only two Duffies in the library’s phone book. The first number didn’t answer, but when the second one picked up, I was overjoyed.
“Duffie residence,” a slightly older woman’s voice said impatiently.
“Um, hi. I’m looking for Trent Duffie.”
I could hear the woman breathing on the line, but she didn’t respond, so I pulled for the best lie I could think of.
“Sorry, my name’s Michael. I’m a former classmate of his and he told me if I ever needed notes on geometry class to give him a call.”
“Trent doesn’t live here anymore,” the woman snapped.
Puzzled, I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“He emancipated himself two years ago. Surely if you were a good friend of his, you would know that.”
Emancipated? What did that even mean? “I, I-I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get this project done by tomorrow. It’s really important.”
“Don’t call here again.” The line went dead.
My stomach dropped. There went my lead. How the heck was I supposed to find Trent now? My town wasn’t that big, but I was just one person. Finding him would be impossible on my own. Defeated, I grabbed my backpack and sulked towards the entrance.
“Gregory,” a familiar voice called.
I spun around. It was old Mrs. Greeley again. “Yes, Mrs. Greeley?” I asked politely.
“I couldn’t help but hear your conversation.”
“Oh,” I muttered. “I know I’m not supposed to use the phone without asking, but I--”
Mrs. Greeley put up a hand, silencing me. “Nothing is more important than your education, young man. The lengths you went to in an attempt to learn are admirable.” She smiled toothily and handed me a small folded piece of paper. “Trent Duffie works at Steve’s Autobody. You’ll find directions on that sheet of paper.”
I could’ve kissed her I was so happy. “Wow, thank you so much!”
“Think nothing of it. Now go and learn.”
“Will do.” I started walking away when something ran through my mind. I turned around. “Mrs. Greeley?”
“Yes, Gregory?”
“What’s it mean to emancipate yourself?”
Mrs. Greeley made an awkward face, then trudged off as fast as she could.