It was an ordinary day.

That's the surprising part about days that change your life. It's completely normal, until it isn't. One decision can immediately affect the course of everything.

It was a Friday. I had just come home from whatever the fuck I was doing. Shopping? Painting? Something completely mundane. I was excited about something and I wanted to tell my sister, Carly, about it. I had met a guy who could swallow fire and I had asked him if he would appear on iCarly, my sister's webcast. I knew she would be stoked to hear that he'd thought that was a great idea.

I opened the door leading to my apartment. The lights were off, and I felt this chill entering my spine. Something was definitely off. Maybe she's asleep, I thought as I turned the lights on and went upstairs.

I felt a slight nervousness bubbling within, as if I was anticipating for something to happen. I turned to Carly's door and opened it slowly. The room was filled in stillness. She isn't here.

I tried to shake my doubts away but they still remained. A million scenarios magnified in my mind. What could've happened to Carly while I was gone? I needed to slow things down, as I took a deep breath and released. I closed the door and headed back downstairs.

I thought eating one of my world famous spaghetti tacos would distract me. I took some out from the fridge and popped it in the microwave.

While that was nuking in the microwave, I sat down on the couch and turned my phone on. 12:00 am was brilliantly displayed on the home screen, as pangs of fear swimmed inside me.

Yes, it was time to worry. My head was rested on the couch, thoughts swimming against the obnoxious squealing of the microwave. I shut the door closed.

First, I called Carly. After a few beeps, I was greeted with her chipy voice:

"Hey. It's CARLY! Leave a message."

Then I called Sam and Freddie. To my surprise, the calls also went to voicemail.

It just didn't make any sense, I thought. Carly never went anywhere without Sam or Freddie. If Carly was missing, I could assume that her friends were missing as well. But this wasn't the time to jump to conclusions; I had to stay calm.

I left my apartment and walked to the apartment opposite of mine. I knocked on the worn brown paint covering the door. And I waited.

The only person I trusted at this time was Marissa Benson, my neighbor. Although her methods of raising a child differed from mine, without her, I wouldn't known how to take care of Carly.

The door clanged open. Marissa stood, peering watchfully at me for a few seconds. Did she not recognize me? After realizing it was me, she then opened the door.

"Sorry, Spencer. I wasn't expecting someone this late," said Marissa. Her face was drained of color, eyes puffy and shadowed in dark circles. She motioned for me to follow her in the hallway leading to her living room.

It was clear that something was wrong with Marissa. Her usual composure was gone and now all I could see was a tenseness in the way she moved.

"I'm assuming you're looking for your sister. Come, sit." The distraught look on her face told me everything I needed to know.

"What happened to her?" Marissa walked over to the kitchen and I followed her, determined to know what was going on. Marissa ignored me and went ahead with her pouring a cup of tea.

Marissa's hands shook the base of the cup slightly, as she turned to look at me, exasperated. "Freddie and Sam found their way back a hour ago. Sam, really, since Freddie was apparently passed out." she explained.

My eyes widened and my mouth opened a bit. Marissa stared, almost horrified at the grotesque display of me shapeshifting into a human frog. That expression turned into sympathy once she realized that this was just my reaction to what she had said. Marissa explained further that Freddie was alright, and Sam had told her he fainted when they were getting back.

I relaxed my face, and then asked, "Has Sam had said anything else?" Marissa placed the tea cup down and shook her head. "No. She refuses to say anymore, unless she's able to go out and find Carly - and you know I can't do that." she said.

I nodded my head in agreement. Sam is an impulsive person, and once she set her mind to something, there wasn't any way to stop her. This would be hard, but I had to try. "Where's Sam?" I ask.

Marissa pointed left. "She's that way. Next to the bathroom."

Once I got to the room where Sam was in, I gently opened the door and slid in.

Although it was pretty dark, the vibrant dirty blonde curls sprawled on the bed made it obvious to me that it was Sam. She was stirring a bit, so I assumed I wasn't as quiet as I thought.

But something else piqued my interest.

"Carly! Don't take her away…Look here, porkchop, over my dead body-" she murmured to herself as she shook her head. Sam's voice gradually get quieter as she continued to mumble to herself. At this point, I wanted to go back and let her have some rest. Whatever she had gone through to get here, she deserved it.

I turned my back to the door and I opened it again slowly. I was just about to leave until Sam shot up, her eyes wide open. "Spencer?" she whispered resoundingly.

I turned the lights on. "Are you okay?" Sam nodded, although the distraught look in her eyes betrayed her. "I'm fine," she said confidently.

"Tell me what happened, you aren't fine, Sam."

Sam looked me straight in the eye and said again, "I am fine, Spence. You should be concerned about yourself because I'm not quite sure you're fine."

I realized that Sam just wanted to get me out of this situation, so I went straight to the point.

"What happened to Carly? Where is she? Who hurt her?" Sam looked overwhelmed as these questions shot through my mouth in increasing speed.

In exasperation, Sam put her hand to her temples, and mumbled under her breath: "Fuck it." She stood up and pushed the blanket aside in fiery intensity.

"Me, Carly, and Freddie were out getting something to eat at the Groovy Smoothie. We were on our way home when we saw these three men in black leather jackets. Obviously, Carly and Freddie were both freaking out, but I knew that if they touched their grimy hands on my friends, I'll bash their heads in.

They tried to advance on Freddie, seeing that he's the most scared out of all of us. I see this and punch one of the guys, the one with dreadlocks and a nose piercing. While I'm making sure that one doesn't walk again, the bald one on the right, is trying to drag Carly out.

I try to kick that one in the balls, but the bald dude has got me tightly gripped. He whispered in my ear, "I want you and your little friend here to stay quiet, ok? Or we might have to take special measures to make sure you do."

ThenI say, "Oh fuck off, Mr. Clean." And he punches me, or tried to anyway, because I broke his little wrist. He then went to moan like a little shit while the last dude in a turtleneck once again grabs hold of me.

And the world just stopped, it was the weirdest thing. He brings something, like chloroform, to my face, and I could see from the corner of my eye, Freddie falling to the ground as Carly was carried out, screaming, I couldn't tell who. I want to scream, I've never felt so fucking useless ever in my life," As she said this, Sam's voice broke a little, but she cleared it quickly and continued.

"We woke up not so far from where we passed out. And that was that," Sam finished.

I didn't know what to say now. If anything, I was furious that this happened to Sam, since she was basically a member of our family, she spent more time at our home than her own. It sickened and enraged me that these men would attack a group of children. What did they want from these kids? And then it hit me, and I almost wanted to gag at the thought of it. A sex trafficking ring. It made the most sense to me, but still something was not right about this.

I think I told Sam that I'll come back for her and we could search together. A lie. There's no way in hell I would put Sam in that same situation. I felt a pang of guilt as I saw Sam's eyes droop back down again. Went back to the living room. Marissa held weakly, a badge in her manicured hand. Frayed severely, a drawing of a pile of sticks with smoke arising.

And it was on me, then. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, yet I felt this rage fuel me as I sped into the uncovered night.

I was going to do this.

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