It was the day after Melanie had seen John, and she hadn't heard anything. She knew it wouldn't be so soon to get news, but the anxiety was starting to set in again. Melanie sat alone in her room, her Global Studies and Math textbooks laid out in front of her with a number of assignments accompanying them. She stared at them with unblinking eyes as she gnawed on the back of her pen.
She had trouble focusing on her homework, and the whole point of doing her work was so she could focus on something other than her missing sister. She leaned forward to read the passage out of her Global Studies, then she answered a couple questions on the assignment. She leaned back again and let out a heavy sigh, setting the pen down.
This was hopeless. She closed her books and slid them to the corner of her bed and gathered her assignments in a pile and plopped them on top, then she brought her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. For a second, she felt like she wanted to stay like this forever.
In this position, in this place, in this state of mind. She felt like her worries just melted away as she watched her alarm clock slowly switch from 2:45 PM to 2:46 PM. Melanie's eyes slowly drifted to her cellphone that sat beside her so she reached for it and decided to call Beth and tell her what happened.
She dialed Beth, but there were no rings, so Melanie just set her phone back down and stood, stretching out her tired body. She hardly got any sleep last night. After she returned from the police station, she took a three hour long bath, cleaned the house, and watched reruns of her favorite T.V. Series for the rest of the night. She went through all four seasons, then finally decided that the house wasn't clean enough.
It was like her mind couldn't go to sleep, it was wired with worry, ideas and pain, and the thought of sleep almost seemed ridiculous.
Melanie pulled off her pajamas that smelt foul with her lazy body odor and pulled on a pair of leggings and a light blue jean flannel and she made her way into the bathroom to freshen up. She went through the routine: Brushed out her hair, braided it back with careful fingers, brushed her teeth, rinsed off her face, then dried herself off with a small pink towel. She took a deep breath and caught a whiff of the towel, and Isabel's perfume invaded her nostrils.
Throwing the towel onto the counter, Melanie reached over to a small peg that was attached to the wall and had a bundle of necklaces dangling from it. She grabbed the necklace that her mother gave her and Isabel for their tenth birthday and carried the necklace that had an intricate key dangling from the silver chain around her neck, then placed it softly against her skin. The chain was long enough to slip beneath her shirt, so she hid it under there with a long sigh. Isabel also had her necklace hanging on her peg too, but her charm was a lock. Melanie and Isabel haven't worn the necklaces since junior high--they just seemed too corny to the sisters.
A loud knock on the front door made Melanie jump inside her skin, but she quickly put everything away and rushed outside of her room and down the hallway, walking into the entry of her home. When she faced her door, there was a large towering shadow that stood aloof, but what the shadow, who she was suspecting to be a male, held in his arms, made Melanie wonder.
It looked like he had a girl, limp inside of his arms, carrying bridal style.
Melanie quickly opened the door and she let out a loud sob, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. The guy that stood there, tall, burly, with dark features and the brightest of blue eyes, watched her intently with a smirk on his face.
But that's not what Melanie was looking at.
She was looking at something that shook her core, made her bones rattle and her mind stop processing anything.
She was suddenly blind, deaf.
Immobile.
The man held Isabel--completely limp--inside his arms. She was pale, but looked unharmed, and the steady movement of her chest told Melanie that she was breathing. She was wearing a pair of sweats and a large black shirt and her hair was unbrushed and a little greasy. Instantly, Melanie grabbed at her sister, but the guy didn't let her go, he just watched her.
"You're Melanie?" He asked, watching her closely.
"Y-Yes." Melanie muttered, her eyes never leaving her unconscious sister. She felt his stare on her and it almost made her shake with the nerves that danced inside her, but the only thing that was forefront in her mind was Isabel.
"This is your sister, Isabel." He said, not even a question. Melanie jerked her head up and down, and finally looked up at him.
"What did you do with her?" She asked, her voice surprisingly stern. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a small smile, but he never answered.
"May I come in?" He asked.
Melanie was shocked by his request, and wanted to reject him, send him away, but her sister hung between the middle of them. If she were to send him off, he would take her sister with him.
With all ounce of strength in her body, she sidestepped and with the door in her hand, let him through and closed it after him. As if it were a normal thing to do, he walked into her living room with Isabel hanging from his arms like a satin curtain and laid her on Melanie's couch. He turned, looking around the house with an unreadable expression on his face.
Melanie stood there, awkward, with her hands tucked at her sides. "Wh-Who are you?" Melanie asked, her voice noticeably shaky. His eyes drifted to her, and he watched her closely, his eyes raking her body.
"My name's Wylde." He finally answered.
"What were you doing with my sister?" Melanie asked, but she pressed on, "Were you another hook up?" Melanie began to slowly walk over to Isabel who laid on the couch, sound asleep. She placed her fingers against Isabel's wrist, not caring if he could see her, and she checked her pulse. It drummed steadily underneath her skin. She was in fact still alive and breathing.
Despite the circumstances, Melanie let out a sigh of relief.
"No, we didn't hook up. I took her." Wylde said frankly, watching Melanie closely as she shuffled to Isabel's side and draped a blanket over her body.
"You took her?" Melanie stood straight and turned to face him. He was close to her, closer than she thought him to be and her shoulder bumped his chest, almost sending her backwards and onto Isabel, but he grabbed her arm and steadied her. His hands were cold and rough around her forearm and sent a chill down her spine, so she ripped her arm free and took a step away, the back of her knees bumping into the couch.
"Yes, but I'm here to return her and be on my way-"
"On your way? I'm going to call the police!--"
"No." Wylde grabbed her again, his hand latching onto her shoulder. He smiled softly and his eyes bore through her, and she felt like he could read through every part of her mind. She tried to shy away, but his mind invaded her and grabbed every fragment of her being and held onto her like a vice.
She couldn't look away.
"I'll return your sister and leave your home, under one condition." Wylde said, his voice colder than ice and felt like acid being poured into her ears. The acid seared her mind and she found it hard to focus on anything, but she held his gaze and fought to keep her mind awake.
"What?" Melanie breathed, her voice barely coming out. She was still staring into his eyes, still being captivated in some way.
"You come with me."
Melanie was so shocked, she fell out of her trance and surfaced from the waves of confusion. Her mind reeled and she struggled to stand upright. If it wasn't for Wylde's strong hand on her shoulder, she would be on the floor.
"Ex-Excuse me?" She whispered with wide eyes. Wylde chuckled.
"I will leave your sister here and leave your home—beautiful home, I might add—if I can take you, Melanie, back with me."
Back where, she didn't know.
She didn't really want to know.
Melanie was in awe, she just watched him. "Why?"
"Because, it seems, I had taken the wrong sister." He smiled at her all innocent-like, the corners of his mouth folding over. His voice was drenched in sarcasm, and Melanie couldn't figure out why.
"You will leave my sister out of this?"
"Yes, same with the people you love, blah, blah, blah..." He rolled his eyes, and finally, he removed his hand from Melanie's shoulder and walked to the other side of the room to the shelf of family photos. One photo he was looking at in particular was of the whole family, her mom and dad in the back, and Melanie and Isabel sitting on their knees in front, smiling for the camera at the age of twelve.
Melanie was frozen, and her mind seemed to stop its thinking process and she sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth. Without second guessing it, her mouth formed around words and were thrown into the air.
"I'll go with you." Melanie said, stepping forward. Wylde froze, and he slowly set down the picture and craned his neck around and looked at her. "If it saves Isabel, I'll do it."
Wylde began to slowly walk toward Melanie, and just when the front of his shoes were going to smash her toes, he stopped. She could feel his cold breath against her face, but she didn't cower away.
"I'll give you ten minutes to go pack your bags. Don't try anything Melanie, or Isabel won't be too happy about it." He paused and laughed. "Actually, she won't feel anything at all."
Melanie nodded stiffly, and for a little bit she just stood there, motionless. Wylde lifted up his arm and tapped his finger against his non-existent watch, and she finally scurried off to her bedroom and grabbed her duffle bag and with a blank and empty mind, she emptied her drawers into the bag, pulled on her winter jacket and her combat boots and wrapped a scarf around her neck.
She hurried into the bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush and hairbrush and she looked over to Isabel's side of the bathroom, and slowly, she reached up and grabbed Isabel's necklace, pulled it off the peg and shoved it into her pocket.
She zipped everything up in her bag and hurried out of her room, but she paused and took one last look into her bedroom. The room she grew up in. The room where Isabel would sneak from hers after their bedtime and they would build a fort and share their deepest darkest secrets. All the memories flashed by her like a film playing her own life in front of her eyes, then suddenly, the film stopped and everything was black. Melanie blinked, then closed the door.
When she walked back into the living room, Wylde was resting back in the reclining chair with his eyes closed and his strong arms wrapped behind his head. Melanie stood there awkwardly, and he slowly opened one eye, sighed, as if he was annoyed by her taking him out of his calm place, then stood up. Wylde reached forward and grabbed Melanie's bag from her arm and placed it onto his.
"People will be looking for me, you know." Melanie said. "Isabel will tell them who you are, and they will track me down."
He laughed a cold laugh. "Don't worry your pretty little head, I got it taken care of."
Taken care of.
Melanie gulped.
"Are you ready?" He asked, watching her. She ignored him and walked over to Isabel. She hovered over her sister and knelt next to her and grabbed her cold hand in hers.
"I love you." She whispered, then she grabbed the necklace from her pocket, lifted Isabel's head, and slid it around her neck, tucking it under her shirt. Melanie leaned forward and kissed her sister on the cheek, then she stood and wiped the stray tear from her eyes and turned to Wylde, and nodded.
"I'm ready."
"Good." Wylde wasn't even phased by Melanie's actions and stepped forward. His boots knocked against hers, and before Melanie could say a single word, he reached forward and grabbed her head in his hands and violently jerked them, snapping her neck.
"That was easier than expected." Wylde said with a smirk, then he picked up her limp body and carried her out of her home—well, her old home.
He was going to make sure she never found herself in this place again.