Plugged In

Chapter Three

When I visited my father in the hospital, one of the doctors informed me of his injuries. He had a broken leg, five broken ribs, severe bruising on a few of his organs, and a minor concussion; lucky he hadn't been injured more severely, but more so, lucky to still be alive. He didn't awake during my visit, or even at all during the next two weeks, and was declared to be in a coma induced by his concussion. When asked if I had anyone to go home to, I lied and told them my mother was waiting for me back home. Wouldn't want to end up living in a foster home or something of the like.

One day, while I was relaxing after my daily visit, I realized that I hadn't seen or heard from Alec since the day of my father's admittance. He must be worried, right? After all, I would usually text him every night, or at least once every two or three days. I went to visit him, deciding that I could use a little break from lamenting my father's condition.

When I knocked on the door, I was surprised to see Alec's mother standing on the other side, mascara running and tears streaking down her pale cheeks. As soon as she caught sight of me standing on her stoop, she stopped trying to calm herself and burst into loud, wailing sobs.

"Mrs. Maleel, what's the matter?" I say, awkwardly placing a hand on her shoulder. I had met Mrs. Maleel once or twice before while visiting Alec and while she didn't seem to dislike me, I also didn't seem to be someone she'd want to see her crying (and ruining her immaculate make-up). Whatever the issue was, she seemed to be deeply upset by it.

"Al...and he...and we...gone!" she sobbed incoherently, hiccuping between words.

"Excuse me?"

"Al...eh...he...gah!" she repeated, putting physical effort to enunciate as clearly as possible.

"Al...eh...Alec?" I said, looking up at her questioningly. She nodded. "He gah. He...he's gah...he's gone? Alec's gone?" She nodded again, sniffling and trying to contain herself again.

"What do you mean he's gone?"

"We can't...find him. He's gone."

"Did you check the library? or maybe a few game stores?" I asked, going through a list of places my best friend could possibly be.

"We searched every game store in town. And he hasn't gone to the library again since you started coming here. I even-I even called his phone several times, but he never picked up or called back."

"Well, maybe I can get him to pick up." She hesitated, but nodded in agreement. While I dialed she walked into the kitchen and I heard the stove open and a pan slide in, then footsteps ascending the spiral staircase from the kitchen. I listened to the ringer on the other line for three minutes, then hung up and called again. After six unsuccessful attempts at reaching him, I left an angry, exasperated message on his voicemail and sent him a text:

From: Coriander Cantrella (Me)

To: Aleckistov Maleel (Alec)

Sent at 5:35 EST

Where r u? Ur mom's on the verge of a meltdown and I'm on the verge of hunting you down and skinning you alive. :p But seriously, CALL YOUR FREAKING MOTHER! >:[

I slipped my phone back into my pocket as Mrs. Maleel returned to the foyer with warm chocolate chip cookies and a newly-painted face. She sat down on the sofa and gestured for me to take a seat next to her. I sank down into the expensive cuorduroy seat and she took a deep breath. "No answer?"

"How'd you know?"

"If you had reached him,you'd most likely still be speaking with him." She looked down at her hands, which were nervously fiddling with her wedding band. "If he isn't picking up for you, then he must be in trouble."

I blinked a few times. It wasn't because he was in trouble. It couldn't be. "He's probably just busy with something. I'm sure he'll call me back when he gets the chance." I said, more for my benefit than hers.

"Dear, I've watched that boy drop a game controller to answer the phone if it played your ringtone. That is a small miracle. It doesn't matter what he could be doing, he wouldn't just let the phone ring if he could help it."

The phone rang and I watched as Mrs. Maleel's eyes widened and she leapt off the couch with surprising force for someone her age. After a little while, she plodded back in, stating simply, "Police." She walked me back to my car and waved sadly when I started the engine. Unlike Alec though, she went back inside as I started to pull away. When I got home, I also received a call from the police and a request to go down to the station for questioning. I politely agreed, then made my way to bed, where I dreamed of Alec and I racng through the treetops in the world of Leigons of Fantasy, battling monsters whenever they dared to cross our path. Suddenly, one pinned him to the ground and he called my name as the creature drug a single razor-sharp claw from the hollow of Alec's neck down to the base of his stomach. I awoke with a sharp gasp.

Once awake, I began thinking of more realistic nightmares, things that could not be reasoned away with the logic of "It's just a game." I thought of Alec laying face-down in a ditch, covered in a blue plastic tarp and bleeding to death as car by car passed and took a bits of hope along with their fading headlights. I thought of him tied up somewhere, being tortured. Being forced to listen to sickeningly-sweet bubblegum pop and ripping his eardurms out when he couldn't take any more of the girly lyrics that repeated throughout the entire song with no real change.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I made one more desperate call to his voicemail. "Please, Alec. Even if you aren't going to call your mother and put her mind at rest, at least let me know you're alright. Please." I hung up the phone and waited up for three hours for the reply that never came before finally succumbing to sleep.

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I went to the police station after visiting the hospital the next day and found the officers on hand to be less than helpful. They informed me that since his rarely, if ever saw his parents and the fact that he had said goodbye to me in such a strange way the last day that he was seen, they believed that he had run away.

"Why would he ever run away from his life? He has everything."

"But his parents were never there for him."

This was where I got angry. "So?! Neither are mine, except for when my father stumbles home drunk and passes out on the couch. We kept each other company. He wouldn't have just left me here alone if he had any control over it."

"Well, miss...he is on the Missing Persons list now, so we'll keep an eye out for him and the neighboring cities will do the same."

"Wait, so you aren't even going to investigate?! My tax dollars are paying for you to sit on your butt here and write names on a list?"

"Ma'am, with all due respect, you seem a bit young to be concerned about paying tax dollars."

"Teenagers aren't immune to tax on purchases. Besides, who do you think pays the bills while my father wastes his money on beer?" I spat at him.

"Fair point, miss. But this is just standard procedure. We can't investigate until we have reason to believe that foul play was involved."

"So, if I were to bring you reason..."

"We would be forced to look into the situation."

"Alright. If you find anything worth looking at if I want to find proof, my name is Coriander Cantrella and my number is 668-2428."

"Very well, Miss Cantrella. Have a nice day."

"You too, sir."

I bounded out the front door, a smile on my face for the first time in weeks. Now, I had a purpose; I finally had a way to help Alec. I had to find proof. Part of me didn't want to find anything, for fear of what it may be, but the other part of me knew that if I was to have any chance of bringing Alec back to me alive, I had to find something worthwhile. Time to find a tweed jacket and a pipe, because I had just become Private Investigator Cori Cantrella.