Page 61 of Pretty Little Fears

Jameshas always been a shady bastard.Ifit wasn’t in his business deals, it was in his private life.Thehushed conversations and constantly locked offices.Itmakes sense.

Ishouldn’t put it past him and his capabilities.Momentsof my life flash through my mind whereIwish dreams would show instead.Iremember the eight-year-old with the pulsing red handprint on his face.MomentswhereIcould’ve spoken up but chose not to, out of fear or shame.Iremember the twelve-year-old who “fell” and broke his nose.MomentswhereIcould’ve told my father to fuck off and take control of my life.

I’monly thankful for the brotherhood because it brought me closer to the guys.Theytruly are my brothers and if not for them,I’msureIwould’ve tried to off myself before my father ever got the chance to.

Wakingup and looking at myself in the mirror has been getting more challenging by the day, knowingIwill be forced to be at his mercy for the rest of my life.KnowingIcan’t go back and stand up for the kid inside of me who dies a little more with each passing day.Therewill be no avenging him.TheclosestIhave to vengeance is getting out of this life and never looking back.

Mythoughts wander to mom.Iwonder how long she waited before she decided it was her time to leave us.Didshe plan it on aspecific day?Orwas she so fed up with her life, that if she lived another second, she would go batshit crazy?Inever understood her choice andIwish she left behind something,anything, for me to comprehend why she left me alone with that monster.

Nolonger able to fight off the feeling swirling around in my gut,Ipull myself out of bed.Ineed to go see for myself, to make sure these allegations aren’t true.Iknow my father is a heartless man, but is he capable of an evil that dark and disturbed?Surely, my mother could have never loved a monster like him.Young’swords about the disappearances ring in my ears.Idecide to go check outJames’soffice at the school to see if what he said appears to be true.

It’slate so the building is locked, not thatIexpected anything else.Icame prepared for this.Droppingmy bag,Ipull out the small kitIshoved inside to pick the lock of the administrative building's front door.

Crouchingdown in front of the door,Ipull out the keys and start to pick the lock.Ittakes me a few tries but when the resounding click fills my ears,Irelease a breathIdidn’t realizeIwas holding onto.

Thelights are off, making the hallways dark.Icome up toJames’soffice door and attempt to twist the handle.Whenit moves under my grip,Ilaugh.Thatcocky motherfucker didn’t think anyone would attempt to break in.Thator there’s really nothing of importance here andTraviswas giving me bullshit.

Istart with the drawers of his desk, pulling them out aggressively and rifling through the files.Nothingalarming catches my attention.Igo through the rest of the desk drawers before moving on to the filing cabinets that adorn the walls.

Ishift through every single file, again coming up with nothing.Justmore student records, plans for future school events, and other unimportant documents.

OnceI’vesearched every inch of this office and have come up with nothing,Ifall back onto his chair and rest my head in my hands.Ihave not found anything resourceful or of the slightest importance regarding the disappearances.

Yet, the nagging feeling in my gut won’t go away.Ihaven't been back to the house in a very long time, but the only other placeIcan think to check is the home office.Travissaid they were there, so let’s see if the fucker was telling the truth.

Witha feeling of resolve,Ipull myself off the chair and head back toward my house.Quicklyarriving home,Igo straight for the garage to get my bike.Swingingmy leg over,Ipull on my helmet and turn it on, the engine purring to life.

Idrive fast, eating up the distance between my campus home and my father’s house.Pullingup to the gate,Itype in the code that hasn’t changed since childhood and wait for it to open.Onceit does,Islowly ride up the long winding driveway untilIreach the front entrance.

Slowingdown to a stop,Ishut off my bike and hop down.Makingmy way inside,Iremain quiet, not wanting to alert anyone to my presence.Idon’t come back here often, so being here, in the dead of night at that, will raise suspicion amongst staff and my father.

Imake my way down the hallway, careful to not make a sound asIwalk.Thehouse is silent, making me wonder ifJamesis even here.Still,Ineed to move as if he is.

Comingto the door,Itry to turn the handle but it won’t budge.Huh.Thepossibility that he’s hiding something increases asthe feeling of dread forms a deeper pit in my gut.Myintuition tells me that something isn’t right.

Ipull out the lock-picking kit from earlier and get to work.Thisone is trickier.Ittakes multiple tries and by the time the door is unlocked my fingers hurt and sweat has formed on my hairline.Eitherfrom the unnecessary amount of work and patience it took to get the door unlocked or from the unsettling feeling growing in my stomach.

Thefirst thing that catches my eye whenIpull open the door is the photo ofBlairattached to her student file.Itsits on his desk, out in the open.Instantly, my stomach turns to lead and the room feels as if all the air has been sucked out.Whywould he have this?Liftingit up to my eyes,Iglance past her file to the next one under it.

Lookingback at me is the same face of a girl that was on the missing posters around campus last week.Istart to pull the files out, scrambling through them.Eachand every fileIunveil matches the familiar faces of the students who are littering the campus with missing posters.

Basedon the stack in this drawer, there must be hundreds of them, definitely from before this year.Ifeel fucking sick.Traviswas right.IfBlair’sfile is in here, that means she’s being targeted by those sick fucks.Iwill not allow anything to happen to her.

Overmy dead body.

Ishove all the files back into the drawer, keepingBlair’sout to take with me.Iround the desk when a piece of the floorboard under me slightly dips in and creaks.Ilift up my foot and look down at the clearly loose floorboard, halfway hidden under the desk.

Youwouldn't notice it until you stepped in just the right spot.

Whatthe fuck?

Leaningdown,Ilift up the wood until it opens for me, letting me peer inside.Sittingthere is a worn envelope with my name scribbled across the top.Theletters are smudged and clearly written frantically.

Whatthe fuck is this?

Ireach down and pull out the envelope.Openingit,Iinstantly recognize the feminine writing.Alittle photo falls to the ground.Bendingdown,Ipick it up and look at it.

Staringback at me is a young version of myself sitting on the lap of my mother.We'resitting on the edge of the dock at our lake and her arms are wrapped tightly around me, huge smiles adorn our faces.

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