Bookery Street

The sun dawned at precisely 7:00 am, coming up quicker than the sun she'd known back in Louisiana. With the sun brought on responsibilities Clef didn't want to face, and people Clef didn't really want to know. Reluctantly, she pulled herself out of bed and became ready for a hunt of a stranger.

She imagined that whoever it was would be prepared, and know who she was when she showed up, but she also knew not to be ignorant when it comes to her mother. Anybody who knew her mother knew she was a private person.

Leaving her apartment, she stepped onto the loose cobblestone streets. They weren't very well-kept, with green grass and weeds poking out between the holes in it. Even though Salem was old and probably should have been abandoned long ago, you had to admit there was a beauty to it. I don't know if it was the tinge from the sun that made everything seem like it was sparkling or if it was the pure energy of the place itself.

After walking down many streets, all looking about the same, Clef could finally admit she had no idea where she was, or where she was going. She thought she had found herself in the middle of a square somewhere, only because of the signs that hung from some of the buildings with the names of shops on them. Other than that, it looked completely the same, maybe a bit bigger.

The streets were actually quite crowded compared to the rest of the places she'd been, some people poking their heads around in shops.

Looking at the different signs, she eventually found one that stated "Locator Shop," and decided that would be her best option.

A bell rang as she stepped through the door, but there seemed to be no one working the counter. After poking around at the different maps hanging on the walls she was pretty sure she was in Oliver Square. There were three squares shown on the map, each in opposite sections from each other. There was a square for each street, and Oliver Street was the one she remembered her apartment was on, so she must have made a circle somehow.

She found the section of the place that stated Bookery Square and decided that was the best place to start.

"Excuse me?" A head poked itself up from behind a counter, making Clef jump. "Can I help you with anything?"

Steadier herself, Clef answered, "Yes, actually. Can I buy this map here, please?"

"Of course, darling." They said, heading to the back to retrieve a copy. It was an older man, who was very short. He didn't walk with a cane, but it looked like he needed too.

"12 coins," He said, coming back with the map.

"Alright," I answered, passing over the coins. Clef's mother had left a stash of them under a floorboard in her closet, and when she had been in one of her worried stages she had told her about it.

He counted out the coins taking in each one carefully. After checking very thoroughly he handed over the map. "Have a lovely day," He chimed as she turned to go.

"I will, thank you." She closed the door, stepping back out into the flooding light. Holding out the map, she headed straight in the direction of Bookery Street.

With the help of the map Clef easily found her way to the street. After finding the road lined with houses, she looked intently for the one labelled 65th Ave.

After some struggle, she found the house. It had the same broken theme as the rest of the town, but had many colorful potted plants on the porch, along with a rocking chair. Clef raised her hand to knock on the door, but before it hit, the door swung open. A young man stood in front of her, his hand knotted in his wavy brown hair. He seemed taken aback by the lady standing on his porch.

"Hello, sorry, I was just about to knock." Clef said.

"It's okay, just startled me, that's all," He answered, his voice soothing and melodic. He stepped out onto the porch, closing the door as he did. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Oh, yes. Do you happen to know if anyone named Ginger lives here? I think she may be expecting me at one point." Clef added, trying not to let onto the entire story of why she is here.

He stared at her incredulously, confusion noticeable in his expression. After a long pause, and him realizing I wasn't joking, he answered. "Um, Ginger hasn't been seen in weeks. I come around once in awhile to check up on her house and everything."

"Missing? That can't be right. I'm supposed to come see her," Clef replied. "How long ago was it, exactly that she was last seen?"

"I'm not exactly sure, May 12th maybe?" He said, seemingly getting more confused. "Who are you? I don't think I've ever seen you before."

"I have to go," Clef said, abruptly turning around. He reached his arm out, grabbing the sleeve of her jacket.

"Wait, what's your name?" He continued, trying to get any kind of identification out of her.

Clef pulled her arm out of his grasp, and raced off the porch. Not giving him an answer, she ran back through the cobblestone streets that had brought her here.

May 12th, she thought.

The exact same day her mother disappeared.