The ticking of the clock went by slower and slower by the second. Looking up at it, I clutch the armrest of the chair as the hour hand made its next move. The second hand made another rotation, causing the minute hand to make its rotation, which caused the hour hand to move a notch. Twelve-o’clock has officially arrived. 

The sun shines high in the sky, and cars blasted by in a fury to get to wherever they’re going. Ty still hadn’t come home, which solidified the worst in my mind. Something happened to him last night. I know that sounds so fucking obvious, but I don’t mean it generally. Whatever happened, it wasn’t even close to good. It had to be so bad that it kept him out for nearly twenty-four hours.

I convinced Miranda to let me stay home for the day when I explained the situation to her, but she wanted me back as soon as the clock hit twelve. Sighing, I get ready to head out. At first I was disappointed, but then it dawned on me. Maybe going back is a good idea. Miranda has a car, so she can drive me across the city to search for him.

See, Ty, a car is useful. All it took was for you to go missing to realize that. Should I be cheering now? Probably not, but now I can convince him to get a car. Isn’t that what really matters by the day’s end?

I rush outside and walk to the antique store. It didn’t take long, cause when I get into the zone, I can walk nearly ten miles per hour. So it only took me a minute to reach the store. Miranda is cleaning the windows with a soapy rag. She scrubbed it in circles, but when she saw me approaching, she began scrubbing in a line. I don’t know if that means anything, but it’s just something interesting I noticed. 

I headed inside the store and Miranda approached me, rag in hand. She looks as if she had just heard that her dog was dying and it had only an hour to live.

“Did he come back?” Miranda asks. I shook my head, and she sighed. “Great.” 

“Did something happen while I was away?” I ask.

“I got an interesting phone call, but that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you call the police and file a missing person’s report.”

Except that’s the last thing I would ever do. The last thing I want to happen is to open up a chance for the humans to identify me. Then not only will Ty stay missing forever, but I’d also be sent back home with no way to return. Or they could kill me, but I’m having a difficult time figuring out which is the worst option.

“Are you able to drive around so I can find traces of him?”

Miranda looked at me as if I was crazy. I didn’t find anything wrong with what I said, but then again, human culture is so much different from my own. No matter the amount of studying I do, I don’t know all the specifics of their culture.

“Why not just let the police handle it? Unless you have something you’re hiding from me?” She stared at me accusingly. 

I don’t have time for this now. I can’t risk being apart from Ty for long cause I’ll lose out on all my options. It’d come down to either me having my way with a random guy, potentially ending up killing him or having my identity released, or I just die. I don’t want it to come to that, however, so I need to find him as quickly as possible.

“I’m not hiding anything.”

From her eyes, I could tell she didn’t believe me. I probably wouldn’t believe myself either, but it’s her decision on if she would act on it or not. If I was her, I would. I’m not her, however, and I don’t know much about her, so it can go either way.

She breathed deeply, closing her eyes and staring up at the store ceiling.

“Yeah, let’s go with that. More shit piling on my plate.” She rubbed her hand across her face, and I could see sweat drops pouring from her face. “The store will be closed tomorrow. I have somewhere to be.”

“So you can’t help me?” 

She shook her head. “No, but you might be able to ask Karina if she can help. Her family’s rich and it ain’t the first time she’s used her family to find something. One time, they tracked down a stuffed teddy bear she lost when she was five. They found it in less than an hour. It popped up on a random street and they discovered Karina threw it out of their limo.” 

Right, I forgot that she’s rich. If there’s one thing I despise more than anything, it’s the people who hoard their money and refuse to share with anyone in need. It surprises me that Karina’s even a part of that system to begin with. I don’t think much of her, but she doesn’t seem like the rich person type.

Someone born into money will show very quickly that all they ever know is money. They’ll grow up expecting the world to be theirs, and in turn, think that anyone without money must not be on the same level. Nothing but a bunch of irredeemable assholes that mean nothing to society. The only reason that they’ll get involved in any outcry of injustice is if it’ll make them look good or if they can line their pockets with more money.

However, Karina works at a grocery store. She’s working a low-paying job that doesn’t even dent the size of her wallet. Why would she even be working there in the first place? Although I wanted to know, that’s not what matters right now.

I despise the rich, but now more than ever, I need Karina’s money’s help. The police isn’t an option and even if she has ties with larger entities, I can sidetrack them by just going to her. I can ask her to use her name when filing a missing person’s report.

“I’ll think about it.” I say.

“Well, if you do get her help, I would like to ask one thing.” Miranda pulled my face close to hers. We were so close to each other that if I pucker my lips, I’d end up kissing her. “Whatever you do, don’t let her drink too many beers. Please.” 

I nodded and she let me go. After that, I waited anxiously for the day to end. With each minute that passes by, Ty could be closer and closer to death.

***

“Airplane?” 

The black-haired woman, who I learned was actually named Tiffany Brooks, stabbed a piece of lasagne and raised it in the air. After breakfast, she decided that the reason I wasn’t eating was because of the airplane and not the fact she locked me in her basement. So began asking me if it’s okay if she airplane feeds me, to which I refuse each time. 

I shook my head, so she brought the food to my mouth like normal. I didn’t open my mouth, and the lasagne fell to the floor like the others. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do cause it smelled incredibly delicious despite it may have poison in it. 

Tiffany took the fork back and stabbed at another piece. I could hear the fork impact the table with a loud thud and the wetness of the sauce as it was sliced into. My body shivered as I imagined that lasagne being me and that fork as a knife.

“Why don’t you untie my hands and I can feed myself?” I ask with as much charisma as I could provide.

“Sorry, but you’ll just escape, and we can’t have that. You don’t know how to take care of yourself.” 

She makes a fair point, but I would still like to not be tied to a chair for the foreseeable future. She tears at the lasagne and brings it to my mouth, which I refuse to eat again. It falls to the floor, and the smell makes its way directly to my nose. 

My stomach ate away at my insides as it begged me to eat. I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday. I didn’t even get to eat Wendy’s food because I was way too focused on the argument Jessica and I had.

The past is one hell of a drug, ain’t it? People look back at their past for several reasons, and I don’t know if any of them have any form of goodness inside. If there was any pleasantness in looking at the past, then there would be no need to look in the future to make new past memories.

A person can look back just to remember a positive moment in their lives. This type of person may continue to walk forward and only take space and quick glances into the past. They’ll continue walking, but they’ll look back. This is by far the most healthy option.

Then there are people that look back because there’s nothing else in front of them. They walk forward on a foggy road. As they trot through the foggy street, the fog clears, revealing autumn trees and wildlife abounds. They enjoy the sight of deer running through the orange and yellow leaves, so they’ll stop every so often and turn back. The blandness of the fog slowly erases from their mind, and all that’s left in their mind is a deer running across the road.

I’m not that type of person, however. The fog may be bland, but as I move forward, I know there’s more beauty waiting for me. All that’s required for me to expose the beauty from the bland is to keep my legs moving. If I stop, then so will the fog. I’ll be so engrossed in the beauty behind me, I fail to remove the fog in front of me.

Then there’s the third type of person. This is the person who uses their actions to excuse their shitty actions in the present. They’re not at fault for killing this man cause they were bullied as a child. They aren’t responsible for saying this awful thing to a vulnerable person cause their father died in a car crash when they were young. People hear the sob story and eat it up, doing the perpetrators’ job for them and excusing their horrible personality. 

I am not that type of person, however. Tiffany is obviously someone with a tragic past, but I just want to slap the shit out of her and run. Nothing can excuse her for this. Not even if her parents died tragically protecting her. I can feel pity, but forgiveness is foreign in my heart at this moment. 

“What do you want from me for you to let me go?” I beg. I don’t want to stay here any longer. I don’t have a lot of money left, but I’d give it all to her if it lets me leave. I got shit to do. 

“I’ll let you go on one condition.” 

Okay, what? I didn’t think she’d actually take up my offer. I’m grateful for that, but I doubt that anything she’d want would be something I could provide. 

“Be my boyfriend.” 

See? Why in the hell would I want to do that?

“Hell no.”

“Then you aren’t leaving.” 

She stood up and ate a piece of the lasagne. Her tongue swirled around the fork, licking up the sauce and cheese. She looked at me with eyes that screamed as loud as they could that she wanted me. What’s worse is that she’ll get me, whether I decide to stay or take her offer.

The only thing I could hope for now is someone up there to contact the police. I doubt Harmony will, but she’d be able to find some other way to get them searching for me. Or she could find me herself, but if she takes that option, I doubt that’d work.

Tiffany walked up the stairs, and the door shut, cutting me off from everything. Now all I have to do is sleep and wait. What’s Harmony doing right now? Is she making do without me? What’s the world like outside? If I’m like this now, then how will I be if I’m shut in here for weeks or months, if not years? I guess I’ll find out when the time comes.

But right now, I need some goodnight sleep. As much as I don’t want to be asleep in my kidnapper’s basement, it’s even worse to not be full of energy because I didn’t sleep. I may even have to eat again soon, unless I want to die. 

My stomach’s growling and my eyes grow heavy. I shut them for the first night in a basement.