First story for Sammy Keyes for moi!
Disclaimer: I do not own Sammy Keyes or her friends. I only own me, myself, and I.
They say that in order to find someone, you have to think like them. For example, if someone did something horrible and fled, you'd have to find out the way they think in order to find out where they're hiding and why they did the horrible thing in the first place. Now some of you people out there are probably thinking along the lines of, "Okay? Why are you telling me this?"
The reason why I'm telling you about this is simple: Sammy Keyes has gone missing.
Or at least that's what some say. Others, like myself, tend to think of the term "kidnapped" when asked about the sudden disappearance of the intelligent sleuth.
Why? Easy answer right there. Sammy wouldn't ever go somewhere without telling someone where she is going.
I remember the day I found out about the disappearance of Sammy in vivid detail actually.
It was just another ordinary day, or as ordinary as it can be in Santa Martina. Until I reached school that is. The slight breeze to the north blowing the leaves off the ground and into the faces of those who are passing by. The morning rays of the sun blasting head-on into everyone's faces. Just your typical morning.
I locked my bike on the rack and headed towards homeroom, passing by Dot and Holly on my way there.
"Hey guys," I greeted as I walked toward them. "What's up?"
"Hey Marissa," Holly and Dot spoke simultaneously.
"Where's Sammy?" Holly asked looking around as if Sammy was hiding from her.
"Huh? What do you mean 'Where's Sammy?'" I asked on the verge of doing the McKenze dance.
"I thought she was with you," Holly mumbled, more to herself than to me.
"Maybe she's running late?" suggested Dot looking around for our friend.
"It's possible," I replied. The bell rang signaling everyone to get to their homeroom classes.
It was at lunch when we finally realized Sammy wasn't at school at all.
"I checked all of the halls," Holly reported, plopping down into her seat.
"I've checked the whole lunchroom," Dot spoke leaning into her palm.
"And I've checked everywhere else," I mumbled feeling hopeless.
"Maybe she's just sick?" Dot suggested trying to not let the feeling of dread overwhelm her.
"Maybe," Holly replied staring off into the distance while stroking her chin.
"Yeah. After school we'll check Hudson's and the Senior Highrise," I concluded, trying to at least eat part of my lunch.
After the final bell rang, Dot had to leave, but Holly and I split up to try and find our friend. She'd check Hudson's and I'd check the Senior Highrise. We'd meet up at Maynard's Market to report our findings.
I pedaled my bike to go faster, trying to figure out why Sammy wasn't at school. Last minute dentist's appointment? Sick? Kidnapped? Nah, Sammy couldn't be kidnapped, could she? She's Sammy, there's no way Sammy could have been kidnapped.
Sadly, the trip to the Highrise confirmed my suspicions, along with Holly's findings, too. Sammy is indeed missing. And it's our duty to find her.
And that's how it went.
Right now I am, along with Dot and Holly, waiting for this so-called "meeting" to start. Basically Sammy disappearing made the school look bad so they're trying to help look for her. And that is why we are in the auditorium waiting to help the search for Sammy with the rest of the people in my grade.
"Anyone else?" questioned the Vice Principle, Mr. Caan, thirty minutes later.
Hesitant at first, I raised my hand.
"Ms. McKenze?"
"Um, they say that, like, in order to catch a thief, you'd have to think like them. Maybe if we think like Sammy we'll be able to find her," I spoke in a rush.
There was a murmur of agreements from almost everyone, except for, you know, Heather Acosta ("Who would want to think like her?").
"I think you might just be onto something, Ms. McKenze," the principal praised, nodding his head in approval.
"Yeah, but how will we be able to do so?" Mr. Caan questioned.
Almost as if planned, there was a knock on the door.
"That's strange," mumbled Mr. Caan.
He opened the door to find no one there.
"Even stranger."
Down by his feet was a big brown box filled with, what I think are books. Simultaneously, questions were fired. You know the usual: Who? What? When? Where? Why? How?
"Sammy Keyes and the Hotel Thief?" Mr. Caan read aloud one of the titles (See I was right. They are books). Immediately gasps were heard.
"Should we read them?" someone in the sea of students spoke, asking what almost everyone was thinking.
"We're in luck they're in Sammy's point of view!" the principle cried out, obviously overjoyed about finally getting somewhere about the whereabouts of Sammy. "Who'd like to read first?"
"I will!" I shouted, my hand launching itself as high up as it could go.
The principle handed me the book, saying I could read the prologue and the first chapter.
" Grams told me my binoculars were going to get me into trouble. I just wouldn't believe her. See, Grams worries. All the time. About the way I dress and the food I eat, about me getting home on time, and especially about nosy Mrs. Graybill seeing me come and go."
"Who's Mrs. Graybill? And why does Sammy have to worry about Mrs. Graybill spotting her?" were the main questions asked around, until Mr. Caan stopped everyone's talking ("QUIET! Maybe if we listen we'll understand!").
"It's not like I try to upset her-I try really hard not to-it's that somehow Grams winds up worrying and I usually get blamed for it."
Mumbles of understanding chorused around the auditorium. Even a couple, "I know how you feels."
"So when she'd see me looking out the window with my binoculars and say, "Samantha Keyes, you mark my words, those things are going to get you in a heap of trouble someday," I'd just say, "Mmm," and keep right on looking. I figured it was just Grams doing some more worrying about nothing."
Snorts were heard from the people who have overprotective families that state that one day something bad would happen and it did.
"That is, until I saw a man stealing money from a hotel room across the street-and he saw me."
Gasps were heard throughout the auditorium.
Finally, a brave person spoke, cutting through the stunned audience, "What happens next?"
Cries of agreement were shouted out.
"We don't know," the principle spoke. "Marissa, if you will."
I turned the page and began.
Should I continue? Is it for keeps or shall I give it the sweeps? Review!