If Only

Content Warning: Contains kidnapping, murder, swearing

October 27th: 9 years and 3 months ago

A shrill scream pierces the air. It snakes down the stairs from Lily’s room. Not a second later the chiming of shattered glass hitting the floor drown out the scream. 

“Lily?” I call, already running up the stairs. “Lilly?!” I’m screaming now, swinging around the rail and launching myself towards her door.

Locked. It's locked. Shit. I kick the door. Over and over. Right above the handle where you're supposed to.

Crack. Click. Door flies open. My head is spinning too fast. I stumble into the room. Bare feet ripping open on sharp glass. Lily. Lily. Lily. Where is she? Where? Where? Where? Blood. Blood on her bed, blood on the fragments of glass that cling to the window frame. I’m fumbling for my phone, throwing open closets, cupboards, so quickly that half of them break. Not under the bed. Not anywhere. I’m turning around. Skipping the stairs three at a time as it rings, once. Twice.

“911 what's your emergency?”

I blabber, my lips feel numb. I manage to get a name out. An address. The blood. How long ago? Just moments. Did I check her room? Yes. Yes I did. Does she have a sexual relationship with anyone? No! She’s ten, if she’s having a sexual relationship I’ll kill the- They understand, they recommend I calm down. I don’t want to calm down. They understand. Would you like them to file a missing person report? Yes, but I didn’t call them to file a damn police report. I want them to go after her.

“Alright sir, stay calm and don't move. We’ll send you help.”

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Lily went missing six years ago. She lingers in the 1% category. Never found. Lily's mother died soon after she was born. A protest. I’d told her it was dangerous, she shouldn’t leave her daughter and go protest. 

She said I was worrying, she’d be back before lunch. 

But she wasn’t. I was called a few hours after lunch to identify her body. They wouldn’t show me anything other than her face at first. I knew it was her but I wanted to see her fully one last time, so I lied. Said that I needed to see her body to be sure. So I looked at the bullet wounds riddling her body, held in a shuddering sob. Nodded. Said it was her. Then I walked back outside. Took the sixth month old baby squirming and crying in my arms. 

I managed to get her to the car before I broke down. Sobbing. Lily became my everything. She would have been 16 today.

I swore to myself last year, on her birthday, that if I found myself without her in one year's time, I would give up my job, give up my home. I would search the whole damn world until I found her.

I’ve been waiting 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days, 8760 hours, and 315360000 minutes. Now, I’m sitting in front of the phone. Ready to quit. I already sold the house. It took only a while to get somebody to buy a house with such a bad history. A ten year old girl kidnapped, histories of suicide, even some murder. It's like living in a horror movie.

I tap the call button. Ring. Ring. Ring. I flinch. It sounds like it did that day, it always does. Picks up. 

“Hello, this is CulinaryToolbox, how can we help you today?” I flinch. Mare, our receptionist, sounds so cheerful. I forget that some people don’t mark today as a tragedy, but just a regular day.

“Hi Mare.” I say softly. “Any chance you could put me through to Mr. Jase?”

“Oh, hi Clint! Putting you through now.”

Line click. Transfer. “Hello Clint.” He said kindly. “How are you?” I don’t wait to respond.

“I want to quit. Not Two Weeks Notice, I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Mr. Jase stayed silent for a moment. “Clint, this is a very emotional da-”

“Sir, with all due respect, you have no idea what you're talking about. I’ve been planning this for a year, sold the house already. It's done. I’m giving up my life, please don’t make it more difficult for me than it already is.”

He sounds alarmed. “What do you mean you’re giving up-”

Then I heard myself. “Oh shi-” I take a breath. “No. No. Not like that. Not like that.” Hysterical laughter bubbles in my chest. “God no. I promised myself one year ago to this day if Lily isn't back with me I would dedicate myself to finding her. I have plenty saved up, and I feel so useless staying here.”

He stayed silent for another moment. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” I say sharply.

“Alright, I’ll file your last paycheck Friday.” He’s quiet for another moment. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I say back.

Click. Call ended. Job ended. Career ended. If I keep going I’ll spiral. Another hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. I shove it down, only an inexplicable grin stretches my lips into a half moon. 

“I’m coming to find you Lily.” I whisper. “I’m coming to find you.”

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I didn’t know where to go. What to do. I just got in my car and started driving. A five pound stack of missing person fliers, including a carefully designed guess to what she would currently look like, and the sweet face of the ten year old girl that I remembered. My phone number. Email. Police numbers. A $20,000 reward to anyone who could bring her back. Or her remains.

I put them everywhere, when I run out of space, I keep going. 

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After one week, I’ve hung up all the posters. I’m sitting in a cafe seven hours off of my old house. I stare at the spread on the table. A coffee, black, bitter, and poorly made. Next to it a measly attempt at a bagel. 

Eat. Drink. Ignore everything else. Glance at phone. Tell the waiter no I don't need anything for what feels like the hundredth time. Repeat. 

This is my third day. I’ve been sleeping in my car. I plan on renting hotels if I can’t find anywhere to park. I’ve had two prank calls, desperately claiming to see Lily. They were lies. I cried after both of those calls. Cried at the cruelty of the word.

Finished the coffee. Finished the bagel. Paid the waitress. Left.

I reach my car when my phone buzzes in my pocket. It trembles against my leg, shaking with my hands when I bring the phone to my ear, answer the call.

“Hello. Clint Brian here.” 

“I’m… I’m calling in regard to your missing posters. For the little girl?” A hesitant voice whispered.

“Yes! Yes, that's me.” I say quickly. Anxiety spikes in my stomach, it makes me feel sick. 

“Your… Your daughter was abducted when she was ten right?”

“Yes.” I say breathless. “Yes she was.” 

“No relationships that would signify a reason for being abducted?” The voice asked. It sounded distinctly female. 

"None at all." I said quickly.

“The same thing happened to me. I… I saw a girl that looked like Lily. The… the person who got me.” She took a shuddering breath. “Targeted people who look like Lily, who look like me. I ran a few weeks ago. Told the police. They’re looking into it. You're Lily, I don’t know if she’s still there.”

I’m shaking. Trembling. This doesn’t sound like a prank call. I put her on speakerphone so I can still hear her, look up anything related to what this girl was saying.

Nothing evident, a few stories that might relate. Nothing solid. Why couldn’t there just be one damn news article telling me about a serial kidnapper targeting girls who with certain looks about them. I would take a Reddit Article, anything. Nothing, nothing anywhere.

“Why?” I whisper.

“They said that they lost a little girl. That someone took her. So he’s taking her back. Taking all the little girls with white hair and green eyes. He got everyone, regardless of age, so long as they looked about 10. He said he knew she looked like that because the people who took his little girl sent him a letter. Telling him all about how pretty his little girl was with white hair and green eyes. Said it was a taunt, such a rare combination would stick out in a crowd, but he could never find them.”

“Could…” He struggles to make out words. “Could I meet you? And how old are you?”

“Yes. Yes we could meet. I’m 23 now.”

I stare at the handle of my car door. The phone pressed to my ear feels cold. That sick piece of shit held that girl hostage for 13 years.

“Where should we meet?” I ask. “And when? I can come now. Tomorrow.” I say quickly. Biting my tongue to keep it from saying anything else.

“Tomorrow, at noon. There's a quiet coffee shop. I’ll send you the information.”

“Thank you. Thank you.” I said quickly, nearly breathless.

“Of course.” She said softly.

A low beep signified the end of a call, as I slipped into my car a message sent through from the same number I’d just called. There was a name, place, and a time.

Rivertown Cafe

Rivertown MA

12 PM

I stare at the screen, that's forty minutes from here. It's nearly midnight already. I should sleep.

I try. I swear, I really do try. My eyes close, I don’t open them for nearly an hour before I give up. I click the car into gear, driving towards the Cafe.

When I finally reach the Cafe, I park my car in the parking lot. Stepping outside of it and looking at the empty dark building. A shudder runs through me as the cold nips at my exposed skin. There's one voice behind the building.

I freeze, glancing back at my car. Slowly heading back when a second voice joins in. The voice of the girl I talked to on the phone today.

Then a third voice. A voice so achingly familiar that my breath hitches. Lily's voice. I can make out her words.

“I’m not the girl you're looking for. Just leave him out of this.”

I’m running. Blindly darting behind the building. Calling, screaming her name.

A sharp blinding pain hits the back of my head so hard that I collapse. I can’t see anything. Blackness swallowing my vision. I hit the pavement, barely conscious. I hear Lily screaming, begging them to stop. I get a glance at my attacker, hair brilliantly white. Green eyes. Pale skin. She’s the girl I talked to on the phone. She sighs, looking down at my body as the world starts to fade out, her words distorted to my ears

iiiiifff onnnlyyyy yyoooouu hhhhaaddd waaaaiiiittttteeedddd…

Just before there is nothing. Before the world fades out entirely, I realize that I am dead. I am going to die. And there is nothing I can do to stop it. I hear one last thing, one final thing, and I don’t think it's real, but I don’t mind.

Love you daddy.