Epilogue
I always wondered what my life would have been like if I would have just done what I was supposed to do. My name is Lucas and I am only ten years old, at least that was my age when I died. My past existence was one of leisure and ease; my days were filled with playing and the nuisance of school work. My parents had been a loving couple that stayed together my entire life. The only thing that they seemed to love more than each other was me. Life was definitely excellent for me, but unfortunately it didn’t prepare me in anyway for the inevitable death that I faced.
I remember the last day of my life as if it was only yesterday, I have had ten years to stew on it and recall it. Unfortunately being stuck in the house that I died in hasn’t given me a chance to forget it. It was like any other day that an overly imaginative kid filled with adventure would have. It all started with my normal trip down the two flights of stairs from my bedroom to the breakfast table, to eat with my parents and start my day. My mother had just gotten me new summer clothes the day before and I was wearing one of the blue tee-shirts and jean shorts that she had just gotten me, not because I had to but just to please my mother.
As usual I received a huge loving hug and kiss from my mother and father. They both seemed proud of everything that I did, even when it could be considered dangerous or foolish. They respected my sense of adventure and the imagination that flowed from every pore in my body. Little did they know that some of my imagination had been more than that, it had been truth.
I was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying some cereal filled with bananas and strawberries when my father asked, “What are you going to be doing today son.” He was always interested and intrigued by my daily adventures. Not in an annoying overbearing way, he was just interested.
“I am going to play in the tunnels today with the children,” I was trying to be honest but my parents seemed to see it as imagination. “I have been playing with them for days now. They want me to help them find something.”
“So you’re playing some sort of hide and seek with some imaginary children,” My mother wasn’t as keen on my inability to have real friends or at least what she would consider real friends. She had made several attempts through the years to invite neighborhood children around my age and younger for what she classified as play dates. I unfortunately didn’t take to them as well as she would have liked. Never the less she was still proud of my ability to thrive and be a fun loving, carefree youth.
I gave her a curt shrug and smiled, she always melted with a smile, “After today I will meet up with that girl from the other side of town that you like. I have to go into the tunnels today though. I promised.” I know now that I should have left the tunnels alone but then it seemed like an amazing adventure that I couldn’t pass up.
I finished my breakfast, gave my parents one last kiss and hug, and then left and went outside to the back yard to breath in my last breathe of fresh air in the open sun before heading down to the tunnels. I went down under the wraparound porch then to the entrance to the tunnel in the foundation of the house. The children were waiting for me just inside of the abyss that leads to the tunnels. They had been good to me and played with me for weeks. They seemed to be sad most of the time and always asked me to find something for them, I just never found it and they had never told me what it was. That particular day I followed them in but I wasn’t greeted the same way. The once friendly spirits that had become my companions were now upset with me. They seemed angry and agitated with me for not finding what they needed.
I was standing in the open room that had the door leading to the other tunnels and one of the children provoked me in a way that started to scare me, “I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t know what you need me to find. Please leave me alone, I want my mommy.”
The voices filled my head as if they skipped past my ears and echoed through my skull, “We told you that if you didn’t help us, then we would take you. Your time is up. You should have helped us.”
I wasn’t given a chance to rebuttal their decision, the last thing that I remember of my life was the darkness taking over as I watched the cold iron door close out any existence of light. Then all that remained for me was darkness, cold, and the children.
Later that evening, Lucas’s parents were sitting at the kitchen table staring at his empty place setting with a dinner plate ready for his arrival. They lived in a small safe town with a crime rate lower than most farm towns. They were convinced that their pride and joy was fine, but he had never been late for dinner before and it was now ten o’clock in the evening. It was now time to start worrying.
Lucas’s father called the local sheriff’s office and reported his son missing about a half an hour ago. They sat in the kitchen looking at his empty chair and panic was filling every inch of their coherent thoughts. Lucas’s mother broke the silence and looked at her sulking husband, “How long did the sheriff’s office say it would take for them to get here?”
He had almost missed the words that came out of his wife’s mouth, but some part of his consciousness caught them and he broke his stare from the lonely looking chair, “Huh, oh. They should be here within the next fifteen minutes.”
They both turned back to the kitchen chair and went back to their silence. The only thing interrupting the silence was the funny looking black cat clock hanging on the wall. Lucas had seen it two years ago and had to have one, and like most things Lucas had wanted his parents had bought it for him. His mother looked at the ticking nuisance that hung on the wall and started to cry. She had never wanted the tacky clock with the wide eyes and waging tail, but now it was comforting for her to see.
His father gave her a small smile and said, “He will be fine. We have to keep thinking that he is fine. He is probably out playing around and lost track of time. We have to stay positive.”
She gave him an understanding look but before she could reply a knocking from the front door interrupted her. Together they stood and answered the door. A young sheriff’s deputy was standing in the doorway with an innocent smile and the best comforting look he could muster. Lucas’s mother said, “Please come in officer.”
“Thank you ma’am I am Officer Doyle.” The officer introduced himself as he walked through the door.
The young man couldn’t be more than fifteen years older than their son with baby soft cheeks graced with unevenly growing stubble, but his innocence and boyish tact was what they needed. He went through the normal questions that his training had taught him. Such as, what does he look like, do you have a recent photo, when was the last time you had seen him, and the worst one of all, do you suspect foul play?
Each question was asked with the utmost of care but they all struck Lucas’s parents like a bullet in the heart. His mother was crying within minutes then by the end his father had joined her. The young deputy reassured them that they would do their best to find the missing boy and headed out the front door to begin his search. He Left the two distraught parents to stew on the fact that their son, their golden boy, was missing without a trace or reason.
