"All I Ever Needed"
Chapter IX: "Noose"
One step forward, two steps back.
It was 2:03 AM, and the stillness of night overtook the dark room. Whatever moonlight there could've been, it was masked by the mocking clouds overhead. Gone was all light and the spirits of life. Gone was tomorrow, gone was purpose and hope. Gone was John, and now...his parents were gone.
Alone in the dark, suffocating space, Ricky sat, lifeless. The very walls that surrounded him seem to slowly close in, and would soon overtake him. There were no windows, and no other source of...existence. An erie coldness emanated throughout the atmosphere, flicking against his skin. But Ricky didn't care. Right now, it didn't matter to him whether he was alive or dead.
Perhaps he was. Maybe this is what death felt like. He would look out into the blackness and see nothing, feel nothing, smell nothing. The very emotions of hopelessness glazed over his eyes and he dropped his head into his hands as his temples throbbed painfully.
Alone in the dark, suffocating space, Ricky leaned against the cold, concrete wall, thinking. His foster parents, the two people who were always there for him through everything, were now gone, and he wasn't even around to do anything about it, or attend their funerals. He felt chained, unable to move, and this sense of worthlessness made him beg for an eternal fate even more. It was like thousands of blades stabbed through his body, each one inflicting its own dose of poisonous pain. And there was so much that seemed to combust in his head, that Ricky became numb, and he prayed the pain would subside. But every time his thoughts lingered, which was quite often, the gaping wounds would be infected once again.
When he had lost his son...he tried his best to contain his pain and suffering in front of Amy and their family, but the longer he tried searching, the more discouraged he became. Whispers of his father haunted him, night and day. He had always been abused in his life, but he recalled the most recent memories. For those were the ones that hurt the worst. It's amazing how painful the words may be from someone who he despises the most.
In all reality, a huge part of him set out on this journey believing it was a long shot to find his son. But he had to get away; he couldn't face Amy after what happened. The words of his father plagued his mind. "She only cares for John, not you. She's just using you." The interesting thing about these hauntings was that they were never actually said, but they were spoken in Bob's voice.
Was Ricky's own mind fabricating thoughts and turning against him?
Once John was taken...he felt like his entire life, and everything he worked to discover with Amy on their vacation, was now lost. What he hoped for in his future was now stolen from him and there was nothing he could do about it.
Ricky threw his head back, banging it against the wall. He felt a trickle of blood run down his neck and sighed. The physical pain seemed an easy escape from the heart-clenching agony he felt inside.
There was little hope, in Ricky's mind, of ever finding John, and now that his parents were dead...
He felt a single, hot tear roll down his cheek. It was the first time he had cried since that night.
"He's got my son!" The words echoed in his head.
There was nothing for him now. There was no reason to stay alive. It felt as if he was slowly being suffocated, and soon it would all come to an abrupt end.
"There's nothing I can do now," Ricky whispered to himself.
For several more hours the young distressed father sat in silence. Finally, the sun began to rise, and light cracked through into the room from under the doorway. Ricky began to hear voices slipping through under the door, and knew that he had better leave before he was discovered.
For the past two weeks, Ricky Underwood has been searching for his son. And now that Bob had been definitely identified as the culprit, Ricky was being hunted by the police. With the direct tie between the two of them, the authorities feared for John and Ricky's safety because of what could happen should they come into direct contact. It is always necessary to pray for the best, but be prepared for the worst.
Ricky didn't know why his father would do something so severe as this. As the days went by, Ricky had pondered Bob's potential motive, as he tried to strategize his own plan. Ricky felt that he had to think like his father in order to find him. He believed wholeheartedly that Bob knew he was going to be eventually caught, so why would he abduct his son?
Ricky, dressed in dark blue rugged jeans and a black hoodie, gently grasped the handle of the door and twisted. He pulled until their was just enough space to slip out, and flipped the black hood over his head.
This past night, as it was with many nights before, Ricky had snuck into an abandoned building to take shelter. It wasn't necessarily comfortable, and definitely nothing like the hotel him and Amy stayed at, but it would have to do. He couldn't check into any hotels, and tried his hardest to not leave traces of his presence behind.
As it was this morning, Ricky stayed out well into the night, so when the time came to find a place to stay, his choices were very limited. As he walked casually away from the enclosed room, he turned and saw that it appeared to be a newly constructed supplies shack for a company that was not yet put into use. But no matter; he knew he had to keep moving on. He didn't know if by now he had broken any laws, but he was certain the police were searching for him.
As the sun began to rise above the eastern hills of California, Ricky found his way to a set of train tracks a little ways away from the building. They didn't appear to have been used in years; the ties were rotting and uneven, and various vegetation poked through the gravel. To the right of the tracks was a long line of tall, thick pine trees spanning down as far as the eye could see, and on the opposing side of that was a large pasture that also seemed unoccupied. Therefore, it seemed the perfect place to travel.
By day, Ricky kept a focused eye on the news and the coverage surrounding the case, but no lead had really hit home. His search kept him busy enough to distract him from the agonizing pain that festered in his heart.
But at night time, when all was cool and still, with only his thoughts to accompany him, Ricky had begun to crack.
He had now fully severed the relationships he shared with others back home. And the longer he stayed out, running blind in the darkness, the more he felt himself changing. Whatever drama that once existed back home didn't seem to matter anymore. Ricky began to lose a sense of feeling towards those he cared about. The situation between Ben and Adrian used to infuriate Ricky, but now he barely thought of it. His determination had turned to malicious vengeance, and he found himself feeling the strongest drive to keep pushing forward was indeed not searching for his son, but his father.
God, he hated that man.
Ricky had no vision of the future anymore; it seemed to disappear altogether and he bothered not to dwell on it. He couldn't even find himself living in the present, and the only thing that fueled him was the memories of his past. He had become numb, a emotionless individual who lacked reason and purpose. Ricky's mindset had changed, and he didn't know who he was or why he was this way, he only felt raw fury boil inside of him, threatening to explode.
His physical appearance had changed as well. Because he traveled moreso in night now than day, his skin was dyed a sickly mixture of white and gray, and bags fell under his tired eyes. Ricky's food supply was extremely limited, and because of that he had lost several pounds, sinking to an unhealthy and much skinnier figure.
The cuts that he sustained the night of the abduction had healed, but left noticeable scars. In a way, Ricky was thankful for them. They were now his only reminder that it was all real.
As another day had come and gone, again with no luck of finding John or Bob, Ricky settled into a small, secluded area near the tree line by the train tracks for the night. The fiery sun drooped below the horizon, and out sprang many bright stars that twinkled in the dark sky. Tonight was a good night, although Ricky's stomach pained for lack of nutrition, the moon was out, illuminating the world.
A light in the darkness.
Once again, sitting alone in the shrubbery, Ricky closed his eyes and his thoughts drifted to someone he now rarely thought of. It had only been weeks, but it felt like an eternity, since he last saw her. A part of him wondered how Amy was doing, and another missed the times they shared on their vacation...before it all came crashing down.
John was their one true link to each other...and if he was gone...These hosts of negative thoughts only ensured Ricky's path of inevitable self-destruction even more.
Just like with everyone else...anything else...Ricky couldn't find it in his heart to cry for the separation between him and Amy.
Ricky reached up and wiped his greasy, dirty hair from his face. "Hell," he said.
Again and again Amy found herself pacing back and forth in her room, sometimes pausing to simply stand there, before reassuming her back and forth motion. She had been up all through the night, unable to sleep with everything that was flying around in her mind. In all truthfulness, though, her full attention was only on one thing.
One man. Ricky.
"It's like a huge hole has been punched through my chest," she had told Ashley the night before.
With each passing day, her concern for the father of her only child increased greatly. Her calls and texts went unanswered, and every time she hinted at going out to look for him, her parents quickly shot down the idea.
"We just got you back," they would say. "The police are handling it, and they'll find Ricky and John. Just wait and see."
Amy, however, found things such as that hard to believe. She knew that as much danger as her SON was in, and how much anger and pain she was trying to contain, that Ricky, too, was also in agony. She didn't know the extent of his pain, but Amy knew that they would both rather be with each other as support than be ripped apart like this.
"I have to go," Amy whispered to herself.
"Mom, dad." Amy addressed as she descended the stairway. It was late into the night, but both of her parents were still up, sitting in the kitchen. After seeing them huddled together, Amy assumed a grave, private conversation.
"Amy, it's late. What're you doing up?" Anne turned her head towards her eldest child.
"We really, really have to talk," Amy replied.
"If this is about you going out to look for Ricky then you can just forget it, young lady," George shot. "We've told you before, you're safer here and I'm sure he's alright, as is John."
"We haven't heard from him in weeks." Amy's voice quickly escalated. "For all we know, he could be in trouble too."
"Amy...no," her mother denied once again.
"So...you would keep me from assuring the safety of my son and his father?" She tried to keep herself calm, but the pain was too great.
"Remember," George said, "remember what Black said. They think they know where he's at, but there's too many variables they have to consider at the moment. Bob isn't an unexperienced criminal."
"I'm a young woman and that is my son. I should be able to make my own decisions!"
"And you should respect our decisions while you live in our house. We are your parents Amy, and as much as we care for John and Ricky," George paused momentarily. "...You are not to leave."
Amy scoffed. "Parents..." She turned to walk back up the stairs. "Imagine the situation from my point of view. And right now Ricky's being a better father than you. At least he's doing some, and I should do the same." And with that she ascended the stairs, a defiant look on her face, although in her heart Amy was crumbling fast.
Ricky stood, elevated about two feet off the ground. He sighed as he looked up and pulled to make sure it was secure, but his hands couldn't stop trembling. He swallowed and felt it's coarse threads press against his skin: it was now or never.
Ricky's pain had grown too great, and even in the daylight...all he saw was darkness. The agony was the only way he knew that it was real, but even that didn't satisfy him anymore. He had lost all hope in life. He had fallen too hard to get back up.
One step forward, two steps back. An interesting phrase, Ricky thought. For all that had happened in his life, it came down to this. All the memories, good and bad, seemed faint and dull, disappearing into the numbing, drugged effect that overtook his mind.
A short drop and a sudden stop. That was all it would take. So fragile, so worthless. Ricky pulled tight and felt it constrict around him, before the log he was standing on tipped over...
A/N: Chapter X will be entitled, "Thunder".