"Jenna!" I heard my older brother's cry from the street, loud and fast and full of pain. As I raced up the stairs, I heard a crash, mot like something had simply dropped, but as if something had broken. Shattered, actually. But what was going on in our house? My brother, Mark, was screaming now. Mark never screamed. I whipped out my cell phone and dialed 911. It rang. And rang. And rang. And…disconnected? What the hell! Ditching the phone, I unlocked the door and ran into the living room. I found it dark and in pristine order, so I moved on. I walked into the kitchen and listened carefully, but the house was now silent. I ran into the hall and came out in the entrance hall. Taking the steps two at a time, I ran up the stairs into the upstairs hallway. I stood staring, nothing looked off! I walked into my room and found that nothing had moved or was missing, and next I went into Mark's room. His was just as untouched as mine, but I suddenly heard a sound, like a shuffle, coming from the end of the hall. As I moved toward my little sister Ann's room, I was fully aware of the shadows dancing along the walls, baiting me with their strangeness. I stopped at Ann's nearly closed door, pushed it open, and blacked out.
The first thing I was aware of was the rough feel of a cloth against my bare skin. I opened my eyes and turned my head, pain causing dancing pricks of light to dance against my eyes. A man sat in a chair next to the bed I was on, it looked like a hospital bed, yet the room didn't seem like a hospital room. The man looked at her with slate gray eyes, his slender hands clasped in the lap of his gray tweed suit. "Hello Jenna, do you know who I am?" He asked me. His voice was harsh, but not entirely unpleasant. "No." My own voice sounded small and frail. He cleared his throat and looked intently at me, eyes hard as ice. "My name is Philip Dupoint. I am your father's attorney. I'm here to tell you that your father, brother and sister are all missing."
