7 February 2013
Days passed, then weeks, then months. Nothing. No one saw anything, no one had spotted him, no one had noticed anything different on that day. No cars, no vans, nothing, despite the search and the countless posters we pasted all through the small town. He was missing, another statistic. Our boy, he was out there somewhere; I just had to find him.
The police were still pursuing all lines of enquiries, but what could those possibly be? How can a six year old boy just vanish?
Niamh slipped in into utter desperation; silent accusations were now circulating about her state of mind, first her baby, now her son. Fingers started pointing; whispers became stories, and my wife slowly retreated.
I kept searching, long after the teams had left. I kept questioning people, long after the summer had gone. I couldn't give up, I refused to believe he was gone. The guilt of my absence devoured my conscience from the inside out. Niamh barely spoke to me. That's when JD became my liquid friend. My silent counsel. My amber in the night.
Winter came and went and still no news. The police had exhausted all avenues. I knew I'd have to deal with the reality of losing another child. Accepting he was never coming home. I had already lost my job, my wife, whatever friends I had. I had nothing more to give. My world and everything I knew had fallen apart.
That was two months ago.
The phone vibrated in my jacket pocket; no one had called me in weeks. I withdrew it from its hiding place, Niamh's smiling face greeted me.
"Hello?" I said.
"He's here Jack. He's in the house, he's watching me." Her voice was muffled.
"Is he ok? Did the police f..."
"Jack, its not our Jacob, I ..I .. have to go. He'll hear me."
The line went silent.
The Room V • Opuss № I