Thirty Seven

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"Stay strong, even when it feels like everything is falling apart."
-Kazuko Rin

Thirty Seven

Van Steel was absolutely panicking. He didn't know what to think, what to do- he simply didn't know. And not knowing, was probably his worst fear.

His hands went up to his hair again, pulling it for what felt like the millionth time since he got in the car with Zash who was racing like a mad man across town. Van definitely felt lucky to have his best friend with him, for he was sure he wouldn't be able to drive. Not with his hands shaking the way they were. Hell, he could barely hold the phone to his ear as he called the people of the short list of persons who would know where Hazel could be.

China had called back a minute after he had hung up, practically speechless as. Her voice shook and Van could clearly hear her gasp and sob. It had taken a lot of expletives -from his side- and a lot of comfort and motivation -from Zash's side- to get her to speak, and when she did, Van wished that she had never had.

"There's-There's b-bl-blood every where!" she had gasped, all but giving Van a heart attack.

"I can't think of anyone else to call!" Van exclaimed nastily, hitting the dashboard with his white raw knuckles with which he had hit several innocent objects. He let lose a string of colourful curse words, punching the thing again.

Panicked and frustrated were the words to describe him.

×forced×

The police was swarming Van's apartment when he arrived. He wanted to yell and scream and hurt everything in his path; but he couldn't. All he could do was answer questions, deal with both their families, and suffer his pain solemnly. By then, Van resembled a man who had been dragged through a storm many times and over.

In a span of two hours of answering questions and watching detectives walking around, touching Hazel's painting tools and dusting for finger prints, Van felt like he had lost at least fifty percent of his sanity, his soul, his heart and resolve. He felt hopeless.

When all was said and done, he paced the living room -which seemed to be the only room untouched- not caring that he hadn't eaten all day, or that Hazel's father nor mother hadn't called back or that China and Zash were huddled in a corner where China whimpered in Zash's arms. He just wanted his Haze.

He couldn't wait around for the police to find her with their half assed attempts. He had to do something.

He grabbed his keys, completely ignoring Zash and China, and made a dash for the door. He never made it though.

"Van you don't have anywhere to go. We don't know where they took her." Zash shouted, yanking him back by his arm.
Van yanked his arm away gruffly saying,"I can't sit here and twiddle my thumbs waiting for some cops to finish eating donuts and find her."

He yanked at his hair again,"She hasn't got any friends so I am sure she didn't just go out and forget to mention it! And then the blood -shit the blood-" he crouched down, rocking on his heels back and forth,"The blood. She's fragile. My baby's pregnant and she lost so much blood! I have to find them!"

Van scrabbled to his feet, turning a way from the shell shocked friends and walking over to the bedroom that had been dubbed off limits by the police. He kept his head straight, not looking at her side of the bed where red stained the floor and furniture. He dashed around, then found what he was looking for- the sketch book that she had had on their first night in Jamaica. The one that she sat staring at for hours on ends, not aware of him in the slightest.

Frantically, Van skipped through the pages of the book. He soon found what he was looking for.

Before him was a gory picture. At first Van didn't understand it, then he recognized the man standing in the middle of everything. He had an angular face, with small taunting eyes and a wide mouth. Van knew exactly who he was, and it scared him.

×forced×

The next few hours were the worst. Nothing seemed to be moving as it should, not the time spent waiting, not the old rickety clock and most definitely not the police men swaggering about. Van wanted to strangle them all. Zash wanted to strangle them. China -the reserved one of the three- wanted to strangle them. Nothing felt right.


Van sat staring absent mindedly at a small girl with dark brown, almost red, hair. She was smiling heartily at the grimacing woman who smiled despite herself. Van felt his eyes prickle with what he knew were tears desperate to escape. He blinked several times, hoping to dash them away. Instead, they crawled closer to the lids. Zash stood up, cursing and marched off to the police officer at the front desk. China, worried he'd start a fight, followed after him. Van sat perfectly still, intent on not getting hysteric. His sanity was fainting along with what hope he had.

Then suddenly, his phone rang. It startled him, but he ignored it as reporters were calling. China walked over, took the phone from his steel grip and answered.

"Hello?"

There was a gasp, in which Van knew something was wrong. Harassing reporters don't make someone go paper pale as China had.

"Who is this?" Van barked down the line.

"Now now, Vanny boy, a temper like that could get someone killed." the voice on the other end was a deep snarl.

"I've got nothing to do, so let's play a game of riddle or kill-"

"Give me my ****ing wife back!" Van shouted, making the persons in the waiting room flinch.

Officers started streaming out of their offices like rats, making Van feel suffocated.

"What did I say about that temper?" 
A sream punctuated the air, making a shiver of pure horror run down Van's spine and goose bumps tickle his body.

"Don't hurt her! **** Hazel! I'll do anything, just don't ****ing hurt her!"

"That's better. Now as I was saying, a game of riddle or kill. If you find the answer to my riddle, I'll give you a clue as to where your whore is, if not... I'll kill her. Four wrong answers, and she's dead. Oh and by the way, the police can't be involved so I suggest you leave their now."

The line went dead. Van stared at the white faces of his friends. Then,"Let's go."

Without waiting for their questions, he spun around, heading for the door.

''''''''''''''''''

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