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Missing
I look out of the window and watch the blur of colors fly by in breath-taking beauty. But I don’t pay much attention to the scenery. Instead pounding through-out every fiber of my being is one thought…. Where is she? My best friend, Christine Night, had disappeared into the forest two weeks ago without a trace.
Search parties hunted through the forest but with no avail. Eventually when they figured out that they wouldn’t have any success, they took me, her closest companion, in for questioning. The authorities say I’m not “under arrest” but I know they suspect I had a major role in Christine’s disappearance. Currently I was on my way to the police station.
I hated riding in this stuffy police car, with the prospect of having to be interviewed by some mortal hanging over my head. Feeling my breath beginning to quicken, I put a face on completely blank of emotion, in an attempt to calm myself. Looking in the rear-view mirror I saw my expression conveyed that I looked almost bored with my surroundings. Satisfied with my appearance I turned to my next problem. What was I going to say to the police? Surely they would make me give an alibi, what else would they want? Would I be free to leave after the interview was done? Would I be put in jail?
To soon we arrived at the police station. In the station parking lot reporters stood flocked together like buzzards.” Now my face will be all over the state,” I think! And sure enough, as soon as I step out of the car, they crowd around me start firing questions at me with unyielding persistence. As I reached the front steps, tall escorts in crisp, white and navy blue uniforms surround me. Inside the station the escorts lead me to a windowless room and before I know it they direct me in and close the door. With nothing better to do I sit in a hard, straight backed chair and wait for my questioner.
In my mind’s eye I imagined my questioner as an ugly man with bulging eyes and little patience. But instead the mortal who opened the door was a young, blonde woman with bright blue eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea. She held herself with great importance as if she was better than everyone she layed her eyes on.
“Greetings Zoë,” said the mortal in a surprisingly business like voice. You would think her voice would be light and girlish based on her appearance.
“Hmph,” I responded.
“My name is Mrs. Henry,” she droned on, “and I’m the lead investigator in the disappearance of Miss Night. I am here just to ask you a few questions. Is that O.K.?”
“Sure.” I replied in a monotone
“Alright then, where were you on the night Miss Night disappeared,” questioned Mrs. Henry?
“I was in my room watching a nature program.”
“Can anyone vouch for you?”
“Yeah, my dog!”
“I mean a person,” Mrs. Henry said in a slightly exasperated tone.
“Hmm, well about an hour before I started watching the program I said goodnight to my neighbor who lives next door to me,” I recite.
“What is the name your neighbor?”
“Her name is Mary…uh…. Grey. She lives in apartment number five,” I say.
“Did you know the where a bouts of Miss Night that Friday she disappeared,” Mrs. Henry inquired.
“No.”
“Did Miss Night call you at all telling you what she was doing?”
“No!”
We glared at each other for a few minutes, each fed up with the other. Suddenly a knock on the door broke the silence. A moment later a young police officer, a rookie by the looks of him, stuck his head through the door.
“Ma’am, Deputy George would like to talk to you. He said something about a new development in the case,” the officer said.
“Thank you Zane. I’ll be there shortly. You may leave now,” Mrs. Henry said in an almost tired voice.
Zane nodded his head and quietly closed the door. With awful finality she stood up and pushed in her chair.
In one last attempt to try to save myself from this unfortunate turn of events I say, “I didn’t have anything to do with my best friend’s disappearance!”
Slowly turning her head to face me, a small condescending smile played around her lips. Bending close to my ear Mrs. Henry said, “I don’t believe you.” And with that she stood up straight and strode out of the door.
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God is God and I am not<br /> I can only see a part<br /> Of this picture he's painting<br /> God is God and I am man<br /> I will never understand<br /> Because only God is God