A/N:
Hey guys! Hope you're weekend was great.
Here's a new update of Gone. If you like it, let me know :)
G.
June 21st, Monday, 9:35 AM
Regina
After
Please pick up...
I sent that to Robin almost five minutes ago, after a long line of texts all day and half of last night. I finally dozed off at about two yesterday morning, but woke up not long after at six thirty. I was too worried to sleep, too worried to eat, too worried to even think straight. What the hell could've happened to him?
I pull my phone charger out from my console, throwing my blanket to the back of my car. (I'd snuck into my house late last night, grabbed my keys really quickly, and drove around town to try to find him. Nowhere...I couldn't even find his car in this little, sleepy town). My phone is on 18%, and I'm planning on using it a lot more today to try and find him.
I click on my browser app, typing in the Google search bar "bad wreck in applecroft june 20" and hit enter. Immediately, four links popped up:
Bad Wreck on Winding Pines Rd. in Applecroft
Car Crashes into Rock Wall on Winding Pines Rd. in Applecroft
Passenger Found Unconscious, Bad Wreck on Winding Pines
UPDATED 3:32 PM June 20th – Rock Wall vs. Chevrolet Camaro
The last one catches my eye, just because it has been updated. Aside from the original, rude title, I'm wanting to read the update. I was still out of it at 3:30 yesterday, maybe there's more news than I know. Who am I kidding? I know zero news. Everyone in this town probably knows more than I do at this point.
I click on the updated one, the link that seemed to be the most promising (also because Robin drives a Chevy Camaro...) and it brings up a picture of the car – the same scene I saw yesterday on the news. That's his car. Black, all black down to the wheels. His father bought it for him, with the help of his mother, too. But Robin was spoiled. Gosh, his parents. I haven't even thought of them until now. They're probably worried sick. Why didn't I think to call them?
They can wait, for now. I need to know what happened. I read further:
UPDATED 3:32 PM June 20th – Rock Wall vs. Chevrolet Camaro
Dispatchers received a 911 call from a witness on Winding Pines Road in Applecroft, telling the unfortunate news that a black Chevrolet Camarohad lost all control and ran into the wall at the corner that looks out onto the beach. Winding Pines is known for it's freak accidents, due to many people turning and seeing the wall – looking at the beautiful sights on each side. Pines on the left, waves and sand on the right.
That doesn't sound like Robin. Robin was – no, is – an amazing driver. I've never not trusted his driving capabilities, he hardly ever even speeds. But I continue anyway:
When dispatchers arrived, the witness (who is unnamed, dispatcher Ruby Lucas says the witness never gave her name, but indeed was a female) was gone, and the only person in the car was a young woman. Other details on the woman were not specified, and will not be given out. A driver was nowhere to be found, but blood splattered on the dash beneath the steering wheel suggested that whoever it was, now has a nasty wound or two.
Police are investigating. They say speed was a factor. We will give more updates as we receivethem.
If you have any whereabouts on where this mystery driver may be, please contact 1-800-444-HELP or call the Applecroft Police Station (link here).
UPDATE 3:32 JUNE 20TH-
The car has been registered to one Robin Locksley. We've received information that his wallet, along with a phone and other things of his has been found inside the car that's in pieces. They aren't releasing the passenger's name, but they are telling us she's in critical condition.
What an update. I already know it's Robin...it's Robin's car for goodness sake. Everyone in this town knows his car.
But where would he be? He couldn't have gotten out by himself, it seems, since the dash was smashed in and there was lots of blood splattered onto it. Did he bail before it crashed into the wall? Did he leave me to fend for myself? Did he think I was dead?
Maybe he knew about the baby. Damn. Maybe I knew about the baby. I can't remember anything after March, and I now officially know today is June 21st. Why can't I remember anything after March? Did I hit my head that hard?
Surely, if Robin knew about the baby, he wouldn't have left me. Robin isn't that kind of person to be upset about a child. He wouldn't be the kind to leave me.
Suddenly, I felt a horrible, cold sense of loneliness. I wrapped my arms tightly around me, let my phone fall into my lap, and pulled my blanket back onto me. I just cuddled up in it.
It smells like Robin. He gave it to me this past Christmas, and I can't ever seem to get rid of his masculine, musky smell on it. I love that smell. I miss that smell. I hold the smell close to my face, burying down into the fuzziness and warmth. The blanket is pretty, it's pink and has apple blossoms on it. He knows they're my favorite flower. Somehow, though, even the blanket seemed cold, but I was sitting in a hot car.
My right hand slides down my body, leading to the small swell of my stomach, that I guess is really a baby. I move the blanket to the side, just barely, and swallow hard. "Where is he?" I ask, desperate for someone to talk to. So desperate, I'm talking to an unborn, hardly developed baby that's still growing inside of me. I break down, then. I can't hold my tears back anymore. I'm overwhelmed, I'm still in pain, and I need Robin. He'd know what to do.
December 24th, Thursday, 11:33 PM
Robin
Before
"Are you sure you want your gift now?" I ask, smiling a little as I hold the wrapped up present in my hand, over to the other side of me where she couldn't reach it.
She smiles, her red cheeks moving up with her eyes that practically had frozen eyelashes. "I want my gift now." She coos, holding her gloved hand out.
She looks beautiful, first off. Even though she's in a robe, and I know she has long johns underneath her Christmas pajamas (I made her wear them. Traditions and such. I like tradition), she's still stunning. She has black gloves on, a beanie, and we're sharing three thick blankets. We have hot cocoa piled into two cups beside us. We're freezing, we're on a rooftop at almost midnight, but we're together. And sometimes, this is the only way.
I chuckle at her, shrugging a little. "I don't know. It's kind of boring." I say, being playful.
She punches me, square in the arm and hard. Maybe it felt harder, just because I'm so cold. "Give me my gift, Locksley." She says, scrunching her hand up as she holds it out, then flattens it back out as if to say gimme. "It's almost Christmas anyway."
"Fine." I say finally, bringing her gift to the other side of me and placing the wrapped item in her lap. "Merry Christmas, my love." I whisper, kissing her ice cold cheek before sitting back and letting her be a little kid while opening her present.
It's two presents in one. She finds the first one, it's a warm, fuzzy blanket that has apple blossoms on it. They're her favorite. She loves apples, even though she thinks the name of our town is cheesy. Everyone thinks it's cheesy, though. She smells like apples, most of the time. I ask her if she uses apple shampoo, and she always denies it, but somehow her hair smells like them. I guess it's just her scent. Everyone has a scent. Apple is a good one to have, I suppose.
Her eyes light up, and she's happier about this present than I thought she'd be. I figured she'd be happy, but not so happy to bust open the ribbon that held it together, all neatly folded. She throws it over us, then lays us back on the roof and chuckles. "I love it, Robin." She whispers to me, scooting close to kiss my cheek.
"There's something else." I whisper, still a bit in shock she loved something so simple as this blanket. It's just a blanket, what could possibly be so important about it? I just used it as a filler for something better.
"There is?" She asks, astounded that I'd give her something other than this blanket.
I chuckle, nodding and directing to the small box that she'd dropped on the snowy shingle. "It's right there." I say.
She looks over and grabs it, opening it slowly after giving me a you didn't look. "Oh Robin..." She breathes, and I could tell she was holding back tears. She snuggles the blanket closer, and her voice breaks, "It's a promise ring." She cries.
Gosh, I hated when she cried. Even happy tears, I just wanted her to never ever feel like crying. I know it's happy tears, or at least I hope it is, but she still always somehow seemed so sad, even in the happy tears.
I turn on my side, kissing her cheek and wrapping my arms around her waist. "It is." I whisper to her, drying her tears off with my shoulder. "Do you like it?" I ask.
She nods vigorously, squirming to keep from bursting into more tears. "I love it." She whispers, taking it from the box and sliding it onto her finger. "It even fits perfectly, Robin." She says, twisting her neck to look at me. And there's that smile I love. I adore it. I live for that smile.
"I hoped it would." I coo, kissing her lips lovingly.
June 21st, Monday, 9:42AM
Regina
After
UPDATE 3:32 JUNE 20TH-
The car has been registered to one Robin Locksley. We've received information that his wallet, along with a phone and other things of his has been found inside the car that's in pieces. They aren't releasing the passenger's name, but they are telling us she's in critical condition.
My eyes just keep going back to that pitiful update. It didn't hit me until now, but they're saying I'm in critical condition. I seem fine, other than being incredibly sore. I'm okay. I must have slept it all off. I'm good. Right?
Right.
I sit the back of my seat up, looking out at the parking lot in front of me. I'd parked at Walmart, knowing that truckers and old people on vacation always park here overnight, surely I wouldn't get in trouble for parking my little car here and sleeping for one night. Sure, it was sketchy, but I knew better than to leave my doors unlocked. Robin had taught me to defend myself.
Robin.
Just the thought of him made my eyes water horribly, tears were strongly pricking at the whites in my eyes until I blinked, then they overflowed like someone had turned a water faucet on high. I quickly wipe them away, though, and start my car. I needed to keep searching. Sitting here – being upset and sad about not knowing where he is – won't do me any good, or Robin for that matter.
…
It's a short drive to his house from Walmart.
He lives in one of the nicest subdivisions in Applecroft. The town has signs up all over the streets there that say, "Applecroft's Oldest Subdivision – Est. 1894". And you can tell the age of it, you know it's old by looking at it, but all of the houses are huge and victorian style, all very well kept by their owners'.
As I near his driveway, I wonder if they're home. I hope they're not home. His sister, his mother, or his father. What do I say to them if they are? Sorry, I'm here to snoop around Robin's room to see if I'm forgetting something or maybe, sorry I don't know where your son is. That one sounds like a wonderful line.
Thankfully, they're not home, and my grip loosens a bit on the steering wheel as soon as that relief floods me.
Once I've pulled into their driveway (my little 2004, Honda Civic doesn't fit in well in this subdivision, and sticks out like a sore thumb, quite honestly), I make it to the doorway and lift the mat. Most people hide their keys under a mat, or in a grill, or even in a loose board. No, the Locksleys – being the rich, arrogant pricks they are – have to have a coded key holder built in, underneath their mat.
I've always disliked his family.
I close my eyes, thinking of the millions of different combinations. I try to narrow it down, but nothing was narrowing. They didn't like Robin enough to use his birthday. Maybe it's his sister's birthday? I try to think of hers, but I fail horribly.
Frustrated, I put the mat back down and stand up, placing my hands on my hips as I pace a small circle on their front porch. Think, Regina.
I suddenly get an idea, or a half of one, and walk around to the back. I make sure to be aware of my surroundings...I can't risk getting caught trying to break into their house. Not with everything going on – I have to find Robin. I have to do this carefully. And I refuse to have a child in prison (even though I'm still trying to convince myself that I'm really not pregnant).
I pick the mat up on the back door, closing my eyes and trying to remember back to the time Robin brought me here before his parents got home from work, and while his sister was out at a party. We did things to frighten frogs in that house that day. Not the point, focus.
I clench my eyelids shut harder, shaking my head. I try Robin's birthday for this one, hoping and praying it doesn't set an alarm off if it's wrong. Thankfully, the lid pops open when I enter the four digits for his birthday, and the key is shining down in the box. I'm keeping the key. No one will notice for a while, anyway. And by then, no one will have suspected me stealing it.
After getting in and locking the door behind me (I was maybe being to cautionary, but I was afraid. Afraid of his parents, his sister, and afraid of the fact that someone might have taken Robin...), I walk up the white staircase, trimmed in gold, and take a right to get into his room.
I stop in the doorway when I open it. It's always so messy, but this time instead of wanting to yell at him for it, it comforts me. It makes me want to jump in the pile of dirty clothes he has over underneath the windowsill where he always keeps them. It makes me want to grab his hoodie. And maybe I do grab his hoodie. It's probably close to ninety degrees out, but I need him. Even if it's just his scent, it reminds me this is going to be okay. It reminds me I need to find him, and I'm probably just overreacting.
Just like Robin would do if he were here to tell me that. He would say, "Regina, you just need to take a step back and breathe for two seconds, okay?" and then he would sit down on his bed, kicking his shoes off and leaning down to take his socks off (because he hates socks in the summertime, refuses to wear them once his shoes are off), "Think rationally." is what he would tell me.
How do I think rationally right now?
But no, he's right. The Robin inside my head is completely right. I need to think rationally and I need to get to work, do what I came here for. I needed clues, ideas, somewhere to look.
I start on his dresser, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing. I search his drawers, his closet, his secret compartment that he hides liquor in (it's an old house with bunches of nooks and crannies his parents have no idea about). Nothing, though. There was nothing odd.
I make my way to his bed, opening the one drawer I haven't checked – his bedside table drawer. I know what it has in it before I even look. Condoms, three empty condom wrappers, a plan B packet for me, and odds and ends he stuffs in there. But this time, when I open it, there's a leather book in there. It looks tattered, used, but loved. This isn't new, but it is to me.
I take it out carefully, examining the leather binding and adoring how beautifully made it is. I halfway am thinking I shouldn't open it, I shouldn't look through his personal belongings like this. But we've been friends for years and years now, if he has something he's hiding from me, I need to find out now. Not only because I'm his best friend and his girlfriend, but because something may be in here that can help me find him.
There's a few entries dated back from the beginning of this new year. He writes about how this is his New Year's resolution. (That's another difference between he and I...he finishes New Year's resolutions, I do them for maybe two weeks – if I'm lucky). I flip through the pages, glancing at all of the jumpy handwriting in each one. Nothing out of the ordinary. I flip over some more, getting closer to where we were now. I was wasting time going through February, so I skipped March, April, and started mid-May.
The first thing I read is the entry about how I accused him of sleeping with Zelena. Oh, I remember that night too well. I feel horrible for accusing him of it. I still accused him for it long after this. I just...I shouldn't. He wouldn't do that. But Zelena swears he did. I trust Robin, though, and I know he loves me. Right?
I skip a little bit and get to the day before the wreck, June 19th – two days ago.
Today I bought another ring for Regina. She says she has something important to tell me, but I have something even more important to tell her. Well, it's a question really, I guess. I mean, I gave her the promise ring at Christmas, but I just can't wait anymore to be able to call her my fiancee. And then soon after, my wife. I need that next step. I have to have it quickly. I love this woman.
Aside from that, I had a weird encounter with a man today. He was watching me all over the mall, and then even ate at the same restaurant I did there, and he stared at me over his menu a few times until I let him know I was uncomfortable by staring back at him. After that, he left without ordering anything. I found it odd, but didn't think too much about it. I just can't wait to give her the ring.
He was going to propose. Oh my gosh. But when? When did he want to? I flip to the next page, hoping, praying he wrote something else down, but there was nothing. Nothing. I felt like vomiting.
I did. I did vomit. I vomited straight into his trash can.
June 21st, Monday, 2:00 PM
Robin
After
My eyes flutter open slowly. Where am I?
I hear voices, but they're low and muffled. I must be in a different room from them, I can tell that much. I check my surroundings out, seeing all of the dark brown walls, then registering in my mind that they're logs. I'm in a cabin.
My mind rushes a hundred miles per minute trying to decide where I may be. I don't know of any log cabins in Applecroft.
"He's awake." I hear, and that voice isn't far from me. It's not muffled, it's not low. It's right behind me.
I crane my neck back, but all I saw was a blindfold coming at me. Before I could say anything in protest, a pill was shoved down my throat. I tried squirming, but my body quickly reminded me how much pain I was in, and how broken my leg is. After the pill came a gag, but I don't remember much of the gag. After that, I was out.
