Chapter 2: My Son is Missing.

 I woke up still tired; I always wake up exhausted. I got out of bed, did my usual morning routine, put on my robe, and walked into the hallway. Reese's bedroom door was closed; I should have let him sleep longer. I slowly walked down the stairs into the kitchen, opened the fridge, pulled out bacon and eggs, and started cooking. I put Reese's plate on the dining room table. I yelled up the stairs, Honey, time for breakfast, and get ready for school also; no answer, I thought, getting frustrated; this is the third time I've called him; hey Reese, come on, it's time to get up, still no response. My husband, James, was sitting at the dining room table, sipping his steaming hot black coffee just how he liked it; I thought it was disgusting, but he swore by it. 

 James had a peculiar look on his face all the time, like he was thinking hard, trying to find the answer to a puzzle, but he also had the ah-ha moment in his eyebrows. James had long dark hair to his lower neck and deep brown eyes with green flakes. He swears their hazel, but flecks don't make them hazel. His jawline was chiseled, teeth perfect; I catch every other mom drooling over him when we sometimes pick Reese up from school. 

 James, Honey, can you wake Reese, please? He must have been up late. I told him he needed to go to bed earlier. It's not good for him to stay up so late. He plays video games with his friends. It's okay to stay up every once in a while said James. Yes, but only some nights. Can you talk to him about it, please? I watched as my husband James walked up the stairs to Reese's room, saying, okay, I will speak to him, I heard every step as if time was slowed and sensed something wasn't right. Then, finally, I heard Reese's bedroom door creek open. James yelled down the stairs and straight to my ears. He's not up here, and those words he muttered halted the world around me; they sounded like nails on a chalkboard; he's screech not, screech up here, scraaaaatch. MY. HEART. SANK. 

 James came walking down, not worried at all; typical of my husband to seem like he didn't care, but I knew deep down he was concerned. He's not up there, I said; no, said James, something terrible has happened, said the back of my brain. Reese, are you in the bathroom, Honey? Please say something. I'm worried, but still no answer.

 I was so terrified I started to spiral immediately, running through the house, ransacking it, hoping my son was here but somehow knowing full well he wasn't. I called Reese, and it went straight to voice mail; he always answered his phone on the first ring. This seems wrong. James was trying to comfort me, saying it's okay, Honey, he is around somewhere. Maybe he went to Paul's house last night, and we don't remember him telling us we should call and ask. Okay, I said, then grabbed my phone and scrolled through the contacts list until Anna Sikes showed up on my screen Paul Sikes's mother. 

 The phone rang once, twice, three; Anna answered; she asked Mary, how are you? I cut her off instantly and asked if Reese had come over last night. No, is everything okay, asked Anna? Where is Paul? I asked; he left for school about 10 minutes ago; Mary, what happened. I can't find him anywhere. I'm getting extremely worried. Are you sure he wasn't over last night? I could hear Anna's breathing getting harsh and quick, but I could tell she was trying to suppress it not to make me even more freaked out.

 Let me call Paul and ask, okay, Mary, calm down. It's going to be okay. We will find him. Okay, call Paul and ask, please, and thank you so much for helping Anna, no problem, I'll call you back immediately, okay, Anna, okay, bye. 

 The phone call clicked to its death. I felt every millisecond of every second; time felt so slowed it had only been ten seconds since Anna hung up. Thirteen seconds. Every second felt like an eternity, fourteen seconds. James came up behind me to comfort me; he hugged and kissed me. Just as time was acting excruciatingly slow, James's hug and kiss made the time pass like usual again, and Anna was calling me back. It had only been thirty seconds. I answered any news I asked so fast. I talked over Anna; sorry, go ahead. Anna told me that Paul had no idea where Reese was and that the last time he saw him was yesterday after school, around five p.m.

 Okay, Anna, thank you. I will talk with James to figure out who to call; okay, Mary, calm down. We will find him; okay, thank you, click. I hung up the phone because I didn't want Anna to hear me have a mental breakdown, and I was sick and tired of people telling me to calm down. Do they not realize my son is missing? I cannot be calm at a time like this. James, I called out; yes, Mary, what is it? We have to call the police now and file a missing person report. Are you sure maybe he just left early for school? Now I yelled at James so angry. He seemed like he still wasn't worried. Okay, I'm calling now; I heard the beep, nine, beep, one, beep, one, the phone rang once ring, twice ring, three rings, fou, they answered; James had the phone on speaker. 

 Nine-one-one, what is your emergency? Hi, this is James Bach; hey, I cut James off; this is Mary Bacchante; my son never came home last night. I need to file a missing persons report, please. Okay, and how long has he been missing? I woke up to him not being home; he was home last night. Thank you, and did you already try calling people like family, friends, and maybe his school? I had already tried that, knowing I had not tried the school. I was already on the phone with the police, and he was always late for school; I didn't even try family because we had no family nearby. The operator had been silent for a second; I can have you come to the station to file a report. We can't file one now. Unfortunately, no, ma'am, it is easier if you come to the station to talk in person; okay, then I will be there as soon as possible.