Missing Boy

Chapter 2

The next morning, I wake in my bed with a pounding headache, and an upset stomach because I am extremely hungover. Groaning as I bury my face into my blue, silk pillowcase, trying to block out the irritating light that streaming into my bedroom window. About fifteen minutes later, I finally roll out of bed to shower, take some pain reliever, and brush my teeth to start my day since it already noon. After showering, brushing my teeth and hair, and getting dressed in comfy clothing, I wander downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water, and some pain reliever. After taking the pain medicine, I drink three more glasses of cold water before leaving the glass in the sink, and search for some light food to not upset my stomach any further.

Deciding on chicken broth, I warm this up in a mug in the microwave, and sit at the kitchen table to sip the broth while scrolling through my social medias, and reply to a few messages from my friends from my old hometown. Placing my dirty mug in the dishwasher along with my water glass, and decide to wander the neighborhood again because I am feeling a little better. I also think the fresh air will do me good.

Leaving the house, locking the door behind me since neither mom or granddad are home because granddad had a physical therapy appointment this morning for his hip at the hospital. Loosing myself in my thoughts as I walk down the sidewalk, I do not notice Marcus or Logan until I accidentally walking into Marcus. Stumbling backwards a couple of feet, and before I can fall onto my ass on the cement, Logan and Marcus each grab an upper arm, and keep me on my feet.

Looking at them with wide, fear-filled eyes, mumbling; "Thanks. Sorry for not paying attention."

"Hey, no worries, Addison," Marcus says with Logan agreeing with him, and winking at me.

"What are you doing today?" Marcus asks once he and Logan remove their hands from my arms, and back to their sides.

Shrugging my shoulders, saying; "Just out for a walk to help with my hangover since mom and granddad aren't home."

"Are they working? You can hangout with us if you would like. We are going to grab some greasy pizza," Logan offers with a grin, and Marcus hums in approval.

Shrugging my shoulders; "Sure, thanks, I appreciate this."

We walk the block to the pizza place, and seat ourselves at a table, and order two large pepperoni pizzas and sodas, and wait for our order.

"What are you doing after this?" Marcus curiously asks while playing with the pepper shaker in front of him on the table.

"Not sure, probably nothing until tonight when I need to be home with granddad while mom goes to work for four hours," I shrug. "Why?"

"Well, Logan, Axel, Abby, Kacey, and Korey are coming over to mine for dinner and hang. Would you like to come, too?" Marcus answers with a hopeful smile.

Glancing at Logan, silently asking him if he would not mind my joining them, and he nods eagerly, so I agree to this. We chat through lunch, and as Marcus drives us to his house. Nervously following behind them into Marcus' home, we can hear three other people talking and laughing. Stepping into a brightly lit kitchen, Axel is there with an older male and female who I assume are Marcus' parents.

"Hey!" Axel greets Logan and Marcus as do the adults before they focus on me, causing my nerves to skyrocket into overdrive.

"Addison, hey, I am glad you are here, too!" Axel cheerfully greets, bouncing over to me, pulling me into a tight hug that I eagerly return.

No judgement or weirdness from any of you, Axel makes me feel safe, and I cannot say why he does, but he does.

"Addison, these are my parents, Joyce and Martian Sawyer," Marcus says, pulling my attention from Axel, and I turn around to face them.

"I-it's a p-pleasure to m-meet you," I stumble out, my nerves back in full force.

They return the greeting without stumbling over their words, but both are looking at me strangely, and the three of us teenagers are looking at them weirdly, except for Marcus.

"Are you okay, Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer?" Logan worriedly asks, voicing my concern.

"Um, yeah, um, I will be back in a moment," Mrs. Sawyer nervously says, glancing over at her husband briefly. "Excuse me, boys, I will be right back."

We stay quiet until Mrs. Sawyer returns several minutes later with several pieces of computer paper held against her chest with soft hands. She stops in front of me, the papers held so I cannot see what is on them as she stares at me with watery eyes.

"You look a lot like our youngest son, well you look like the computer generated pictures we have of what he could possibly look like," she whispers, like she is afraid that if she speaks any louder, she is gonna fall apart.

She turns the stack of papers around to face me, and my jaw drops open in shock as I take in the image in front of me. The image staring back at me does share a striking resemblance to me from last year when I was fifteen.

"This is what our missing son, Alexander might possibly have looked like at fifteen," she whispers, tapping the top page, and I swallow thickly.

Pulling my phone from my front left pocket, turning it on, and pull up my Instagram, scrolling through my pictures until I find one of me from last year. Slowly turning my phone around toward her, so she can see the picture.

"This is me from last year, I was fifteen in this pic," I whisper, feeling weird, but I cannot help but wonder why the picture she has and I look so much alike.

She flips through three other pages, but not the last one, telling me these would have possibly been what their son looked like at the ages of ten, five, and twenty. I find pics of myself at the ages of five and ten, and show her the pictures, and mine eerily match her's at those ages.

"How the fuck is this even possible?" I whisper to no one in particular, but stare with wide eyes at the woman in front of me. "Sorry for swearing, ma'am."

She softly laughs, and her laughter sounds like wind chimes; "I do not mind this once. Let's sit at the table, so we can properly talk."