The Sketchpad

We Have Him

We have him. Alex thought about the words, and she shuddered. They chilled her, even though she didn't know what they meant. Who was "we?" Who was "him?" Did she know either of them? It felt like a bad dream, when something strange happens, but for some reason it's inexplicably scary. She tried to dismiss the rising feeling of unease, and grabbed her pencil, deciding to distract herself by sketching in her newly found sketchbook. There may be a few words in it, but that wasn't going to stop her from doing what she loved most!

Alex flipped through the book, scanning the pages for an available space, but she froze when her gaze landed on a page nearly halfway through the sketchbook. 

A drawing of Eli on his 14th birthday, smiling in front of a chocolate cake, was partially hidden underneath a chilling symbol. Alex shivered as she traced her fingers over the sloppy, dark red "X" that covered his face.

After a moment, she pulled back, shocked as an invisible screen lifted, and she realized why his face was crossed out, or at least a part of the reason. She hadn't put the puzzle together yet, but the pieces were revealing themselves. She realized that she did know who "he" was. It was Eli.

Alex raced through her doorway, slamming the door and jumping the stairs, landing with a THUMP on the first floor. She tore down the hallway, skidding in her fuzzy socks and sliding to a stop in front of the handset phone on the kitchen counter. 

She snatched it up and her fingers raced to dial Eli's cell number. 269- She tried to imagine what was happening to him, and to her. -962- Ever since she had found her sketchbook on her floor, weird things had been happening. -45- Strange writing, stranger messages. -94. She heard the dial tone as the phone connected, but there was no reply to the ringing. No answer rewarded her, only silence and a feeling of dread washing over her, cold and salty like ocean water crashing onto loose stones. 

She held the phone for longer than she should have, fruitlessly hoping that there would be an answer. Finally, she realized that this could be bad. Very bad. Didn't people get kidnapped all the time? Teens, like Eli? Maybe somebody had taken him, leaving her a note in her notebook as the only clue. 

For a split second, she thought about showing the police, but the feeling of dread inside her morphed into something different. It was independent, new. She didn't know how, but it told her not to tell the authorities. Not to tell anyone.

Alex wasn't confused, wasn't angry. She was just scared, for Eli's safety and even her own. With a new determination, she shakily set the phone back down on the charger. She walked upstairs to gather supplies. 

She was going to find Eli on her own.