Hi! Ok, I'm not sure what to put here…but I hope you enjoy the first chapter of Fiat Justitia (which is Latin for "Let Justice Be Done")
Disclaimer: I don't own BTR.
Chapter 1:
I wanted to be a doctor. Ever since I was a young boy, I had a passion for helping people. I showed great talent for the profession, even as a child. Whenever someone fell down during kick ball, I'd be the one to get the antiseptic spray and administer the proper wound care. If I saw someone choking, I would be the one who performed the Heimlich maneuver. I knew all the steps one should take in any given situation. WebMD was like crack to me. I lived and breathed the stuff. It was my calling.
I wanted to be a doctor until I was sixteen years old. It was at this age when I lost something precious to me. So precious in fact, that in the thirteen years that have since transpired, I have been unable to replace it.
I lost my best friend, Carlos Garcia.
{*}
I had my eyes glued to the classroom door. Where was Carlos? He was never late to class, and he promised he'd get to homeroom early today so we could talk about our weekends. I went to this really awesome medical seminar saw this awesome operation. I knew Carlos would love to hear about it, he really likes gory stuff.
Was he sick? Was his mom running late?
For the millionth time, I glanced down at my phone. No new text messages. Surely, he would've texted me if he was running late.
My pulse quickened when I heard the bell ring. Carlos never missed class unless he was sick or hurt. Something was wrong... I could feel it.
Once the bell ceased ringing, Ms. Leroy left her desk to stand in front of the classroom. She gave us a cheery smile, as she did every morning, and began to take attendance.
"Larry Abbott?"
"Here."
"Emily Amaro?"
"Here."
"William A—"
There was a knock on the door. Ms. Leroy looked surprised as she opened the door, letting Principal Garrett inside.
"Principal Garrett," she greeted, her voice laced with confusion, "I thought I was being evaluated next Tuesday?"
Principal Garrett sighed, his azure blue eyes looking more tired than usual. Though only forty-five, he looked about sixty this morning. He raked his hand through his salt-and-pepper colored hair, his expression one of sorrow and uncertainty.
"That's not why I'm here, Laura," he then turned to face us, the students, and we could see just how troubled he was by what he had to tell us.
"I'm afraid we've received terrible news this morning," he began, "We have learned that a student in this class, Carlos Garcia, has been missing for two days. There is reason to believe he was kidnapped."
The class let out an audible gasp, which in a different scenario might have sounded comical. Ms. Leroy's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes as wide as saucers.. Principal Garrett's pained expression deepened, the effects of a missing student affecting him greatly.
"They won't tell us anymore than that, but as soon as I learn anything else, I will inform you."
His eyes swept the classroom, before resting on me. His frown grew more pronounced as he began to talk again.
"We will have counselors coming in this afternoon, should anyone want to talk about what they're feeling right now."
I went to a small, private school that taught grades K through 12. Both Carlos and I have attended this school since kindergarten, and have been best friends pretty much the whole time. It was no secret amongst the students and teachers here how close we were. I ignored the eyes I felt on me, my thoughts traveling to the uncharted waters of my mind.
Carlos is missing? Did he run away? No, Carlos wouldn't do that…he was happy with his life here with his family. With me.
"I'll let you continue with what you were doing," the principal continued, "I need to go spread the news. Thank you for your time." With one more glance directed at me, Principal Garrett left the classroom. Ms. Leroy inhaled shakily; trying to regain control of the emotions she undeniably was experiencing. She turned her attention back on us, and attempted to give us a reassuring smile.
"I'm sure everything will be alright," she then went back into teacher mode, "Now, where were we? Ah yes. William Archer, are you here?"
{*}
Everything was not all right. A week after Carlos went missing, the news began to cover his story. I remember watching it religiously every evening, hoping to hear that the police had a lead.
They never did. After a month, the search for my best friend was called off. I attended his "funeral." Well, the term his family used was a "celebration of his life." It was a simple memorial service; his family held it at the local church. Many of our teachers and friends retold stories about Carlos and how wonderful he was. But I couldn't partake in their nostalgia. It just felt so wrong to hear all these people talking about him as if he were dead. I wanted to jump up from my seat and demand what was wrong with everybody.
As his best friend, it was expected that I'd join in, too. But, when my turn came to reminisce, I cracked. Instead of validating the idea that Carlos was dead, I yelled at the mourners, reprimanding them for giving up so easily. Needless to say, I shocked a ton of people with my outcry. Including my family. They had me committed for a month and a half. It took a lot of persuasion, but I was finally able to convince my parents I was better.
On the outside, I appeared to be the same old Logan Mitchell before Carlos' disappearance. I studied just as hard as I normally do. I was even the valedictorian of my class. I went back to practicing my gymnastics, and won a few regional competitions. To my parents' relief, I was their perfect, normal, little boy again.
But they didn't know. They didn't know the countless hours I spent obsessing over the kidnappings that occurred in the tri-state area, trying to see if I could discern a connection to Carlos'. They didn't know how many books on criminology I brought home to study. They didn't know that I still believed Carlos wasn't dead. His body was never found…there was a chance he could still be alive. And if there was a chance, I would do everything I could to help him.
That's why I entered the police academy after I graduated high school. For four years, I saw a side of this town I never knew existed. Time and time again, I put my life on the line in the name of justice.
Let justice be done, as they say.
When I was twenty-two, I made detective. It was the happiest moment of my life, but not because I felt accomplished. It was the happiest moment of my life because I was one step closer to unlocking the truth. I now had access to the cold case files and the very first thing I did was look into Carlos' files.
I still remember the first time I looked at it. I had such hope that there would be this clue I'd find that would lead me straight to him. I viewed the file from every single angle possible, followed every single lead I could. But I was unsuccessful each and every single time. In seven years, I must've read that damned file tens of thousands of times, but nothing changed.
It was still a mystery.
Phew! Chapter 1 is done! I hope it wasn't terrible. I promise James and Kendall will be in this story…just not yet. So, yeah…review? Let me know if I should keep this going. Thanks!