The First Step

Chapter 8.

 I wasn't out for long, if the dim, grey sky I opened my eyes to find outside the window was any indication. Seemed like couches weren't half as comfortable when your brain wasn't on the lowest level of functioning possible. That was one nice thing about the hangover, I realized as I sat up to greet the brick walls of Gwen's living room once again. At least I couldn't feel things. Except gravity on eight times strength anyway.

"Hello? I'd like to file a missing person report."

Gwen's voice caused me to sit up, and I hobbled over to the kitchen to see her sitting in a thin, blue nightgown on one of the stools, eyes rimmed red as she gripped the phone by her ear. Blyke hovered over her in a pair of black gym shorts, stroking a thumb over her shoulder as she talked into the speaker.

"His name is Dustin Palinski. ...March 3rd, 2071." There was a small pause, and she nodded even though whoever she was talking to couldn't see it. "Yes. He has a large scar over his left leg and can't walk the greatest."

My foot started rapidly tapping against the cold tile of the kitchen floor. So he's really gone then.

I wasn't surprised, but somehow, it didn't feel real to me. Like any second now he'd just walk through the door and wave off the entire thing, or roll his eyes with a smile and tell us he was fine. For him to actually be missing... My eyes darted around the room, unsure where I should be or what I should even do. It felt wrong to be here, and wrong to leave. It was my fault after all, wasn't it? I told him to leave me alone.

"Crow," Gwen called out, and I turned to find her cupping a hand over the receiver, watching me intently. "You said he texted you before he went missing, right? When was that?"

"Three o' clock yesterday. Let me see." I pulled out my phone to look. My message was still unread, a fact that somehow made my heart start pounding a lot harder, to the point it ached. "Three seventeen specifically."

"Three seventeen in the afternoon," Gwen repeated. "He sent a text to our friend Crow Morais. ...Yes, him."

I winced at the reminder that they'd heard of me. After all, everyone did, for better or for worse. My mind continued to run with the idea, until suddenly I was remembering parking my broom outside the student center, and all the missing person reports posted on the walls. What if he got taken? What if that's why he went missing? It's just another way for people to get back at me for everything I did.

The back and forth dragged on for a while, but I didn't get asked any more questions other than if he'd left his clip card behind. After a short bout of looking around, it seemed like he had taken it with him though, along with everything else. He was just... gone. Spirited away.

"Okay, thank you," Gwen finally said flatly, although I could hear the amount of strain it was taking her to do so. "And how long until-? Okay. I understand. Thank you. Have a good day."

With a tap, she ended the phone call, and as she sank further into the bartop that was their table, Blyke moved in to fully wrap bare arms around her. "What did they say? Any idea how long it'll take?"

"They said disappearances are serious cases, but there's no guaranteed time frame because... obviously they have no idea. They only said the first forty- eight hours are the most important, and they will-" Her voice choked up a bit. "They'll do what they can."

I sighed, once again caught between staying where I was and moving closer. I decided on the second option until I, too, was awkwardly resting a hand on the tangled locks of blond hair along her back. "I'm just glad they didn't ask you to wait for another forty-eight hours so we knew for sure that he was missing in the first place."