Ghost of You // Vance Hopper

XIX

Anybody else's mom call them Momma?? My mom used to call me Momma and Cochina 😭..
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Saturday 1979. 2:23PM.
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"Mom, he was supposed to be here 20 minutes ago, it's 2:20 now." You checked the clock above the door frame in the kitchen. The empty, lonely, kitchen. It was usually lively, bustling with the multiple friends you had, and now your mother. Now, Vance was late to show up to your house. He was never late to meet with you.

"It's okay, Momma. I'm sure he's just caught up with something at home." Your mom replied softly, taking a sip of the already room temperature coffee she had resting on the table.
"Yeah.. maybe." A frown etched its way onto your previously neutral face as the bad feeling fought it's way back into your head.

The sound of the doorbell ringing twice pulled you back to reality and you jumped up instantly, running to the door.
"Oh, there you go." Your mom chuckled to herself halfway in relief, folding one leg over the other and she watched you open the door. Who stood on the other side surprised you.

"I'm detective Wright, this is detective Miller, and we're here to ask you some questions. Mrs, may we speak with your daughter in private?" Detective 'Wright' asked, pushing the door open more to reveal you with your hand over your mouth. It couldn't be about Vance, could it? No, he was okay. Just caught up in something at home, like your mom said. Nothing happened to him, he was perfectly fine.
"I suppose so. I'll be down here." She let out a shaky breath and suddenly stood up, using the counters and table nearby to guide herself to the couch in the living room.

The two men followed you upstairs while you silently prayed you put everything away last night after smoking with Robin.

"Hello, Ms. We have a few questions regarding, uhh.." detective Miller pulled out the papers he brought with and leaned in closer to check who's name he was looking for.
"..Vance Hopper. Have you seen him since last night?" The question was straight forward, nothing cut short of an interview.

At that very moment, you felt your heart drop. It couldn't be, could it? The Grabber took Vance too. You weren't gonna see him again, were you? The thought of losing him made your stomach turn, and it burned inside. It stung, it stung so much. You couldn't stand the hurt you felt, and let the tears fall from your eyes in front of the detectives.
"No.. we went different ways after school." You admitted. Telling the detectives what you knew wouldn't do anything. They didn't find the first four, so now how would they find Vance?

    You felt as if you'd been hit by a bus by the time the two men left. You felt so sick, so sick of everything. Maybe if you had just walked home with Vance yesterday, he wouldn't be missing. He wouldn't have been the next victim. It should have been you.

    You stood in front of the mirror in the upstairs bathroom for the first time, finally staring at yourself in the reflection after months. Your hair was a complete mess, and your eyes were puffy from crying during the interview. But on the good side, the scar under your chest from October was almost completely gone. Cold fingers traced over each line tenderly, just as Vance did multiple times before. You could almost feel his hands on you, how he made you feel wanted. He was gone. His sweatshirt previously draped over one of Robin's white tees was driving you crazy. His scent, one of a wet rainy morning, mixed with blood, invaded your senses.

    You could almost hear his voice talking to you. Holding you from behind, rocking you back and forth and reminding you that you were absolutely gorgeous. The way he tasted, strangely too, lingered on you. Cherry, that sweet cherry scent, it never drove you this mad. Piece by piece, you stripped off your clothing and entered the shower, scalding hot, and washed yourself.

    Vance isn't ever coming back. He's dead. That voice in your head, it screamed negative thoughts at you. It was always easy to ignore, up until now, because the other voice, oh, you only heard when you were happy.
   
    There was only one thing you could think of doing, one thing that Vance would've wanted you to do. He would want you to find him.

    Once getting dressed again, you threw a coat on, running shoes, and hopped onto your bike. Everything else felt like a blur, up until turning onto one specific street. You could sense it, you just knew. Vance had to be in one of the houses, he had to! One particular house had no car in their driveway, and didn't look as lively as the other homes along the street. Something about it just stood out, sent off the alarms in your head, which were screaming at you to go home. 7741, you told yourself, remember it.

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Sunday 1979. 8:34AM.
BLAKES RESIDENCE
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    Gwen shot up from her bed, scrambling across the floor to her dollhouse. There, inside of it, lay all she needed to talk to 'the man in charge.'
    "Jesus, please be real. Please let her be." She prayed, hands clasped together and eyes closed as she hoped for what she dreamed to not be true.
    "Amen."

    Knock knock.

    "Finney. She's in danger, The Grabber saw her stop in front of his house! I swear, and he got Vance Hopper!" Gwen heaved, trying to catch her breath as Finney just barely entered her room.
    "Are you sure it was them?" His brows raised as he thought back to the day before. He could've sworn he saw both of you leave the school together, didn't he?
    "Yes, I'm positive! She's trying to find him, we need to find her." The siblings got straight to it, throwing on their coats and such before heading for the Grab N' Go, the only place you would be at on a Sunday.

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Sunday 1979. 8:34AM.
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    The now soggy piece of toast rested between your teeth as you rode off, leaving Vance's house. You asked his mom if she knew anything about his disappearance, but her response was cut short when the front door swung open further and his father invited himself into the conversation.
    "Come on. Come on." A certain black van pulled into the street, and your heart skipped a beat. You needed to speed up, go home. You needed to get there now.
    "Oh, shit!" Without any time to react, your bike swerved to the side and hit a rock the wrong way. You were sent flying off of the ride and onto the hard pavement.

    The rough impact emitted a painful groan from you. Upon realization that you earned a nasty scratch from the merciless fall, you failed to notice the same black van pull up next to you.
    "That looks quite bad." A voice perked up from behind, making your head snap back in distress. No, this couldn't be happening!
    "It-it's not. I'm okay, I just need to get home soon." You lied between your teeth, still seething from the pain the fall left you in.
    "You did seem in a big rush back there. Here, let me help you up." Before being able to protest at all, the man hoisted you onto your feet, and you were now facing him and the back of the van, which now had one door open.

    "Thank you.. now I really do need to go home. Nice talking to you, though, Sir." He shook his head, pulling out a deck of cards from nowhere. A bright smile made its way onto the man's face, and he held out one hand to you, the one with the cards, while the other still held onto your arm.
    "I've got just one trick, do stay for it!" He exclaimed with a huff, pushing out his bottom lip when pretending to pout. It was something Vance did.

    This man was the one that took Vance. Your boyfriend. You could just tell.
    "I'm sorry, but—" just as you were beginning to finish your sentence and politely decline the man's offer, he whipped out a bottle, and pulled you into a tight headlock, making you scream in terror. No! This wasn't supposed to happen! Your screams came to no avail, because no one was home. Most people were at church during this time, others were asleep, there was no one to hear your pleas for help. He sprayed the bottle into your mouth while you scratched at his face in anguish, attempting to escape him somehow. Though, deep down, you knew this was it. You weren't getting out.

    You would never see Robin again. No more Vance, no more Finney, no more Gwen. How would your mom act? She already lost your father after the Vietnam War. He completely lost it, packed up, and left. Now, you were abandoning her too.

    God, you didn't want to live anymore.

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TWO UPDATES IN ONE NIGHT WITH OVER 1000 WORDS?? AM I OKAY?