The Air Out Of [Wattys2018 shortlist]

19

WHILE JESS, AND THE OTHERS WERE RIGHT ABOUT TO START AN ETERNAL WAR, Leslie Walker, Jess' mother slams the phone down angrily. The slam makes a resonating sound that seems to never be able to leave her alone. It bounced off the neon-painted walls almost effortlessly and rings profoundly along her eardrums.

Before long, her fist collides with the painfully tough surface of the table which only reciprocates the force thrown by her knuckles and sends it back to her. "Dammit."

Leslie, from the corner of her eye, spotted the amber liquid, and the golden glow of the nearly transparent ice cubes she knew she shouldn't really be touching, but again, this was one of those days where it was absolutely necessary. She pokes them with her newly manicured nails to watch as they submerge and float depending on her pace in the silence of dawn. Mini icebergs. Alcohol. Her elixir. She raised the glass so that she could taste the sugar coated on the rim of the glass, tipping it over to feel the keen burn searing through her throat. Leslie could feel herself becoming drowsy and eventually, she let the glass fall heavily onto a nearby pillow, but with not enough force to watch it smash.

She smiled, satisfied. Leslie felt like she was floating, the aftertaste of her alcohol lingered in her mouth, the thoughts swirling. Every time, she'd have to take a higher dosage just to relieve the pain that would instantly wash her over.

Her eyes scanned the bottle. Balkan, 88% alcohol.

"Jess." She called to the stairs, "Come down here, let's party!" She downed another shot glass full of Balkan. Leslie was dancing now, her arms flailing in the air, while her hips moved from side to side. "Jessiee, come heree." she held the final vowel in each word for the unnecessary emphasis. Once again, there was no response.

Slowly, Leslie made her way up the staircase, occasionally falling or draping herself to one side, before continuing her pace to her daughter's room. She knocked, and sang in a high pitched freak noise, "Do you wanna build a snowman, Jessie?" The knocking grew harder, "Or I'll come in!"

No response, this was normal.

"Do you wanna build a snowman, come on let's go and play. I never see you anymore, come out the door and playyyyyyyy!" She sings loudly, most definitely the reason for a sore throat she'll be having tomorrow "We used to be best buddies, and now we're not. I wish you would tell me whyyyyyy."

"Do you want to build a snowman?" She continues, "It doesn't have to be a snowman." At this moment, she gives up singing, it's clearly not working.

She barges in, expecting to find her daughter perched onto her bed reading a book and rolling her eyes at her mother before pushing her outside and slamming the door shut, or at least Jess typing on her laptop while taking in a heavy breath, but when she found neither, she found her heart racing.

Where was her daughter?

Her daughter's backpack was nowhere in sight. Jess hadn't come home that day. Her books were still stacked like the day before. No, she hadn't run away. Clothes, check. Books, check. Everything seemed normal besides Jess' sudden disappearance.

As usual, Jess' favorite photo was perched upon her desk, one that had her full family in it. Jess smiled radiantly in a blue sundress, while her sister wore Leslie's yellow-stripped floppy hat that was too big for her head. One of the few moments they were all together, and happy. It took everything in Leslie to tear her eyes away from one of the best moments in her life.

The realization had hit her as soon as the effects of the alcohol started to subside.

Jess was missing. She wasn't pretending, she really was just gone. Out of thin air.

That exact second, her attitude seemed to drop, and no amount of alcohol could make her feel better, no matter the fact that she drank one bottle worth of Balkan, a shot of vodka, and halfway through a shot of liquid she didn't quite recognize and yet, the emotion hadn't passed. She couldn't lose Jess.

She had loved her family. Her wedding day was the happiest one in her lifetime, and she had thought that everything was absolutely perfect. Only that perfect, never lasted forever. She was still carrying her second-born child in her arms, Jess, when her husband and her first born daughter went swimming. News reports had revealed that they had both drowned that day, the thick waters pushed them too deep to climb from the surface, and neither had survived.

Only, their bodies were never found, apparently, scientists have speculated that they sunk too deep and that human technology could not go that far as of today and wasn't able to retrieve it, however, we will do our best, she remembers them saying. The lies.

Where was her daughter? She couldn't live another day with the third member of her four-person family disappearing once more. As far as she was concerned, Jess was as antisocial she could possibly be and had no apparent reason to stay away from the house. In fact, she would try to rush home as soon as possible.

Except lately, she had been getting home one or two hours later. Consistently. Usually out of breath, but she simply insisted that she had been stuck doing work, and had much to catch up on. Leslie had paid her no attention but regretted that action now.

Leslie crouched into a corner, her mind racing.

Maybe she would turn up tomorrow. It's possible, isn't it?

And so she slept. 

Or, in other words, collapsed into a lump on the ground. She brought her legs to her chest and wrapped her long anorexic arms around it. Her eyes shut almost immediately.

Jess was still not there in the morning. The front door wasn't left slightly ajar to notify Leslie of her presence nor was her room door. In fact, nothing had changed in her room. Nothing was taken, nothing left behind, everything in its regular place. It almost seemed like Jess had gone to school, just like any other day. But even the hangover Leslie knew that something was up.

Maybe she had just slept in the library. It wasn't the first time Leslie had gotten a scare only to come to a conclusion that her daughter was in fact, studying in the library and had lost track of time, or maybe friends? scratch that, no friends. What if she had just snuck into her room late at night.

Doubt it, Leslie had collapsed at two in the morning.

Ignoring the terrible pain in her head from last night's alcohol, Leslie sparks her engine to life and heads for the public library. No Jess. School library. Still no Jess.

The pain from her hangover seemed to throb more by the second, I knew I shouldn't have touched it.

That was it.

She wept in her car, mourning her daughter and calling the police hotline. A man with a frantic tone had answered. He seemed to be in a rush.

"Hello. This is the police hotline, and I am Officer Ralk. For official purposes, this conversation will be recorded." He spoke, "How may I help you today."

"Officer Ralk, this is Leslie Walker. It's my daughter, Jess, who is seventeen years old. She's missing, and I can't find her anywhere."

"When and where was she last seen?" He asked.

"I talked to her school, Damifelt High. She was there for her last class at three in the afternoon, yesterday. But she never came home, and is still missing until today."

"This may be related to the Missing Four, er, now, five. Personally, I doubt the coincidence."

"Pardon?" She asked, still drowsy.

"Five teens aged sixteen to eighteen were reported missing from schools Damifelt and Chiflester High. None were seen past three or four in the afternoon by each of their schools." He sighed. "Oscar Siph, Louis vela Torpez, Ellie Clasten, Leo Danster, and now, your daughter, Jess Walker."