The Missing Girl

When a girl goes missing, the father suspects a local man of being involved.

                                     The Missing Girl

The houses on this road were old, crumbling. The brickwork ravaged from a harsh climate. The front gardens weren’t much better, as patches of dying grass was everywhere.  Rubbish bags sat on the path in front of the living-quarters. Around the black and green bags many flies swarmed, the stench travelling all the way down the stretching road.

Only one of the houses was occupied.  The man who lived there, had been there for many years. He was a strange individual, a loner. Also, there was common knowledge that he was on the ‘Sex Offenders List’, for sexual-crimes against children.

In the last week a girl of seven had gone missing, and the father of the girl suspected him, knowing of his reputation.  The parent’s name was Robert Jones, and that early-morning he would visit the vile Mr Harrison, for a very thorough chat.

The fog lay heavy on the surrounding fields.  Robert had parked the car down the road, and was now approaching the steps that led to the front-entrance of Mr Harrison’s home. He noticed an unpleasant smell as it hung in the air. The place was a tip, as the flowers had long-died, everywhere covered in litter. Finally, at the door he knocked twice, then waited.

The door opened, Mr Harrison stood in the hallway, a surprised expression covering his middle-aged face, “What do you want?”

He wore blue pajamas.

Robert answered him, “Are you aware that a young girl has gone missing in this area?”

“No, I wasn’t, what has it got to do with me?” he snarled.

Robert stayed calm, but what he said next he knew would unnerve Mr Harrison, “Someone saw you on the day in question, when the child went missing I mean, this certain person also said they saw you with a young female in your car. A bit of a coincidence isn’t it?”

An agitated look appeared on Mr Harrison’s face, before replying, “Whoever said that is lying, sir. Now get lost before I ring the police.”

Robert then became aggressive in his tone, “I don’t think they were lying. It is time to tell the truth.”

Harrison tried to shut the door, but Robert with great strength pushed the door, causing Mr Harrison to fall backwards.

Looking further inside, Robert noticed a pair of light-pink shoes, sitting by the bottom of the stairs. They were children’s shoes, knowing that his daughter owned a similar pair.  He was then one-hundred percent sure, that this man had taken his child.

He suddenly lost control and charged towards the man, a hand around his throat.

“Was the girl that day in your car my daughter? You better tell me.” he yelled.

He released his grip, so the man could speak.

Mr Harrison gasped for breath, then spoke, “You have got the wrong end of the stick, but with the hassle I’m getting now, I wish I had took her.”

“Tell me what you have done with her?” Robert bellowed.

Mr Harrison then got up from the ground, and took a step back, “I sliced her little throat open, does that make you happy now, is that what you wanted to hear.”

Robert felt shock run through him, tears flooding his eyes.

All of a sudden Mr Harrison lunged at him, a poker clenched in his hand.

He fought the man with as much muscle as he could muster.  Then everything went blank.

Robert came to some seconds later, everything a blur. That is when he noticed Mr Harrison laying on the grubby kitchen floor. His eyes wide-open. His head covered in blood. By his body a fire poker sat.

In a flash, Robert remembered.  In a rage he had smashed Mr Harrison round the head several times, with that certain instrument.

He was now a cold-blooded killer.

Without giving it much thought he charged up the stairs, looking in every room.  Still nothing.

He heard a noise, what was that?

He heard whimpering coming from the attic. It sounded like a youngster crying softly.

“I’m coming, sweetheart,” he shouted.

He was so desperate to hug her and tell her everything was going to be all right.

He entered the dark attic, in the corner he noticed a figure slumped against the wall.  He observed that the figure wore girl’s clothing as well.

He neared the child, using a nearby lamp he shone onto the face.  Looking back at him lifeless, was the face of a mannequin. Lipstick had been applied around the mouth area.

It came to him suddenly, that maybe the man was seen with a doll in his car, and not a child at all?

From behind the mannequin a rat scurried passed, squeaking with fear.

Had he murdered an innocent man?

Where was his darling daughter?

A vibration was felt in his trouser pocket, realising it was his mobile phone.

He answered it, “Who's there?”

From the other-end he could hear a woman sobbing, then a voice as she spoke, “They have found her, Robert.”

He realised it was his darling wife.  “What do you mean, where?” he asked.

“It was an accident they said, her body was found floating. They pulled her out, she was already dead. The police saying she had slipped, while walking close to the edge.”

“I don’t believe it,” he muttered.

“Come home, I need you,” she sadly said.

Robert then confessed to her, “I thought Mr Harrison had her, he is dead, I’ve killed him.”

His head spun, his senses becoming blurred.

Robert dropped the phone, as it banged underneath him. He felt utter despair running through him. He fell to the floor. With the glare of the light he saw his hands, covered in Mr Harrison’s blood.

He sat fearful in the shadows.

A while after, police sirens blared out, far in the distance.  In time they got closer.  He knew the law-enforcers were coming for him.

He waited with bated breath.

                                                         The End

Reviews

[brittneymarie]

This was quite sad, but I enjoyed reading it. I liked the description you used and how the father was so set to find out what happened to his daughter. Great write :]


BrittneyMarie