So many children go missing in my town every year, but no one seems to talk about it. I see everything from my bedroom window and I need to tell someone, but why would anyone listen to a boy who can't even leave his room? Why would anyone believe him when he says he sees everything through the cracks in the boards covering his window? I was just a forgotten soul. A forgotten soul that knew everything, but could say nothing. Growing up, I tried everything to get someone to believe me. Being locked in my room for weeks on end made that practically impossible. Now that I have a voice, I can try again. I will tell someone who is doing these horrible things. Even if it means putting myself in danger, I will tell someone about the ice cream man. Sometimes it's just not that easy, and I'm about to find out things that I could never imagine.