Missing

15

Chapter Fifteen

"Mark, I need you to tell me where that money is from?" The sense of urgency was apparent in my voice and I made no attempt to hide it.

He sat there for a few moments just thinking, his brows knitted together while the cogs in his head whirred. The more I waited, the more my insides churned and the more I became impatient.

"Trees, money is paper which comes from trees," of course he would give some smartass answer. He knew that the more he messed with my head, the funnier I would be to watch because the more I could frustrated, the more angry I got.

"No where did YOU get the money from Mark?" I wasn't sure if I even wanted to know, finally find out what dark secrets he had been hiding from everyone- even his own diary.

"Me?" He asked it so innocently I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry from impatience. I had been working on the case for so much time now, it consumed my every thought. I just wanted to finally know the answers to my infinite questions.

"Yes you! You sent me to a cave, made me look at piles of cash and then you expect me to just wait while you fuck around! Get to the point man," I was now full blown shouting at him, he was wasting my time. I wouldn't accept anything other than the truth; no more mind games, no more stupid messages.

"I don't think you will want to know," he looked to the floor ashamedly, like the truth was a heavy burden on his shoulders.

"I would really like to know actually," I was beginning to sound like a madman, I had got up and began pacing around.

"Do you really want to know?" He finally looked up at me with devilish eyes.

"YES I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO KNOW!" I was full on screaming now at him, he was being too difficult for me to handle any longer.

"It was a while ago.." And with that I slipped into his flashback through the median of his words.

*start of Mark's flashback*

It was a while ago Brent told me about an organisation ,actually a community really, which I could earn millions from. When I say he told me, I mean he told me about a documentary film he watched about them. I wanted money, I wanted money so bad. So I chose to join.

My initiation wasn't as hard as I suspected, it was only a few weeks before I had completed a course that in the normal world takes years to perfect and learn. But I wasn't living in a normal world. I was living in the black market.

The area I got caught up in, mainly because of the money you could make out of it, was body parts. A kidney here, a liver there, bone marrow, blood- anything you needed! My fees were high, I never needed to lower them. I suppose the people that came to me were so desperate that they would pay anything.

I later decided to change my game plan, after a few months of great business I upped the steaks. I became a company almost. The person would pay upfront and a few weeks later I would deliver whatever they needed; this way I had time to get special body parts that were specific for one client- this meant I could charge even more.

I has enough money to buy anything, everything and I spent it. Spent it on whatever I wanted. But then the plan derailed.

I had taken orders for three families, one wanted two kidneys, another a liver and the last one wanted a heart. You see the way I had got the organs in the first place was by bribing people with money, but for some reason I was having trouble finding anyone who was willing. I tried to back out of the offer but I had already spent the money they gave. That's when I decided to run, when they said they would kill me and take my organs.

*end of Mark's flashback*

I was utterly speechless, never had I imagined anything like this. I thought he was drug dealing, not dealing in organs and body parts. He looked down at the floor again, a trait he seemed to have.

"Why didn't you write any of this in your diary?" I asked him, my questions suddenly flooding in.

"Worried if anyone saw. It was also one of those things I didn't want to think about a lot, when I came home I just wanted to forget," he shook his head and I imagined that memories were taunting him in his brain.

"Why didn't you tell anyone Mark? They could have helped," it was frustrating to know that there were so many better ways for him to escape the vicious cycle he had got himself into.

"I was afraid, so afraid that the only way to safety was go somewhere alone. Finally be in my own sanctuary, away from the world. Nothing can hurt you when humans aren't around" it was frustrating listening to him talk.

"You can hurt yourself when people aren't around though. Things that aren't human can hurt you too when your alone; in those woods there are wolves, abandoned drug sites with needles sticking out of the ground, the cold," I argued back.

"Humans can hurt the most, whether its psychological or physical- they cause the most pain," he got me there.