Lydia Bennet
"Lizzie?" I called for the millionth time desperately. Her phone and keys lay abandoned on the floor and there was clear signs of struggle. The police were refusing to do anything-saying that we had to wait 24 hours to file a report. This was complete bullshit. My mother got on the phone then and let me tell you, she may be every single one of those things Lizzie portrayed her as in her videos, but that woman could guilt a starving man out of a steak dinner and she got the police man to promise he would come by as soon as he could. However, as soon as he could, still wasn't for a few more hours, apparently. My older sister was missing and no one was doing a thing about it. I tried Jane's phone again but once again I got sent to voicemail. "Come ON Jane! Answer your freaking phone!" There was a pounding on the door and I ran to get it. I swung it open and saw…Charlotte. Okay, not what I was expecting.
"Charlotte. What are you doing here?" she held up a bag and grinned.
"Movies and food. Where's Lizzie? We need to start celebrating our birthday." Her grin slowly disappeared as she saw the look on my face. "Lydia? What's wrong?"
"Lizzie's missing. We think she was kidnapped but the police say that they are really busy and they won't be here for a few hours yet." She rushed into the house and threw her arms around me.
"Oh my God! When was this?"
"We just got home an hour ago and she was gone."
"Okay, are we sure she didn't just run out to get something, or visit Jane or go for a run or something?"
"Her phone and keys are still here, there was a broken vase in the front hall and none of her shoes are missing, so unless she's out on barefoot errands I don't see how."
"You know all of her shoes?" Charlotte looked vaguely impressed.
"Please, I know both my sister's wardrobes," I brushed past this. "Do you know who would do this?" Charlotte shook her head as she thought about it and I reached forward and clung to her as a few tears dripped down my cheek. The telephone rang and I jumped to it.
"Lizzie?" I practically shrieked into the phone.
"No, Lydia it's Jane, you've called like 14 times in the past hour. Are you okay? Is it George?"
"No, no, it's," I broke off. "Oh my God. Of course. George."
"Lydia? What about George? What's going on?"
"Charlotte!" I screamed over my shoulder. She came running to my side as Jane quietly complained about me screaming in her ear. "Charlotte, George Wickham. I bet you anything it was George Wickham!"
"What was George Wickham?" Jane's voice finally matched mine in the worry department. "Lydia, what's going on?"
"Jane its Lizzie. She's missing."
"What? What do you mean she's missing?" A sharp knocking on the door startled me. I motioned for Charlotte to get it and continued to fill Jane in as she ran for the door.
"As in mom and dad and I got home from Mary's concert and her phone and keys were lying on the floor next to a broken vase and none of her shoes are missing and the door was open a bit and Jane, I bet you anything it was George Wickham." Two police officers filed through the door and my mother and father rushed to tell them everything. "Jane, the police are here and I need to go talk to them. I'm sure you're busy but Jane if you can get home get here. I don't know what to do."
"Okay Lydia. I have to get this dress to my boss and then I will get the first flight home, okay? I will be there soon. I'm sure she will come home soon! I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding."
"Jane, hurry." I hung up the phone and ran to my parent's side my hands shaking. If I was right and this was George I would never forgive myself.