Gone (Ianthony)

One Month, Three Days, and Eighteen Hours Before

Anthony:    

"Ian?"

After that one word escaped my lips in a shaky, breathy voice, time seemed to stand still. I waited and waited, prayed for his voice on the other end. In a perfect world, he would tell me where he was, and by morning, we'd be reunited.

But, as I had learned so well recently, we didn't live in a perfect world.

And the voice on the other end wasn't Ian.

"Anthony."

The world around me returned to its sad normal state; the hopeful excitement I'd just found was once again replaced by the familiar emptiness all throughout my body.

I didn't say anything.

"Look, I'm sorry. I knew you would only answer if I called you off his phone."

I was too disappointed to realize the elephant in the room: Ian's mom had Ian's phone. 

"How'd you get his-"

"You really need to get down here. The intersection of Silver Lake Road and Browns. I know it's late but it's-"

"I'm on my way."

||

It was strangely cold outside. It was a summer night in California; I should have been fine in shorts and a t-shirt. But I had on long sweat pants and a jacket, and still, I shivered.

Ian's parents and sister, who still hadn't gone home after coming across the country for Ian's funeral, stood next to me, all of them completely expressionless. I had a feeling I looked about the same way.

The police officer returned a moment later, smiling sympathetically at all of us.

"Nothing else. Looks like he emptied his pockets here and took off - phone, keys, wallet... we'll keep searching around here, but it looks like this was all he left behind."

No one said anything. I was hoping they would allow me to keep everything since I lived with him, but I assumed they would keep everything as evidence. I suddenly remembered the messages I'd left him and hoped they wouldn't listen to them, but greater than that was the empty feeling swelling inside me because I would no longer be able to leave him messages.

Ian's sister turned to me then. She hadn't said a word to me since I'd been there.

"Hey, I just wanted to say... so, my mom told me about how like, you're trying to find him and stuff, and I just think it's really cool that you're so hopeful and if there's anything I can do just let me know."

I smiled at her. I'd always loved her. I remembered playing pranks on her in high school: filling her makeup bag with dirt and hiding Ian's stuff in her closet and then accusing her of stealing it.

Wait.

Hiding Ian's stuff in her closet.   

"Actually...." I felt the twinge of hope I'd felt earlier creep into my system. "There is one thing you could do."

||

She followed me up the stairs, right on my heels, and I didn't blame her; it was half-past three in the morning and there I was, about to barge into her room and go through her closet.

But that had to be it.

Because I remembered a specific time we were listening to that song. It was after his sister had busted us for hiding stuff in her closet, and his parents had gotten really upset. So, naturally he snuck out and came over, and we blasted that song and talked about how much we hated our parents and couldn't wait to get out.

It was a vague conclusion, but it was my only lead. And I had that gut feeling that I was really onto something. I knew this was it.

So, as I reached her room and darted for the closet, I prayed for something to be there. The next clue.

But all I found was a suitcase.

I shook my head, moving the suitcase to the side, not even bothering to ask. But there was nothing. Just carpet.

"No, no, no, no..." I shook my head, feeling up and down the walls, looking toward the ceiling. But there really was nothing.

"Anthony, what-"

"It's here," I frantically stuttered. "The next clue. It should be here."

I expected her to press on, ask what I meant, but right then, her eyes turned a hollow blue color, and she looked like she'd just seen something awful.

"What?" I asked hesitantly, not really wanting to know the answer.

"I..." She bit her lip. "Are you sure-"

"Yes! Yes, it should be here! What is it?"

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered, shaking her head. "There was a little piece of paper on the floor when I first got here. I didn't think it was important; it was super tiny..."

"Where is it?"

She looked down. I felt my heart sink.

"I threw it away a long time ago."