Yay! Reviews! I love you people! And for the people that didn't review, you're still dead to me. Dead as my little pet hamster, Mr. Sniffles. God bless his little hamster soul. And so now on with the story!
Mrs. Foutley sat up in her bed. There was something that wasn't just right. She could feel something had gone wrong, horribly wrong. She jumped out of bed to check on her children. She went to Carl's room since he was the most likely to be the one causing or getting into trouble. But everything was fine in there. Carl was sleeping soundly.
Next she went to Ginger's room. She found the bed empty and unmade. There was no note or any sign that would say why she wasn't in her bed sleeping. She stood in the room, frozen, for half a moment. Then she raced back to Carl's room to wake him. "Carl, have you seen your sister?" she asked her son.
Carl, who was clearly annoyed with being woken up at this early, responded by saying, "She went to bed hours ago."
"She's not in there."
This woke Carl up a little. He sat up in bed. "Where do you think she is?" he asked.
"I don't know! That's why I'm asking you! When she gets home she is going to be in so much trouble." Carl smiled at the thought of his sister being in trouble for once instead of him. He didn't really expect Ginger to leave during the night, but he had an idea it had to do with Mitch.
"I'm going to wait right at the door for her," Mrs. Foutley said ask she exited the room. "Come on Carl, you can wait with me." But Carl said nothing. He had already fallen back to sleep.
Mrs. Foutley waited till five in the morning. Still no Ginger. Now she was more worried then angry. That's when she decided to call the police. They came over and started asking her questions. Like what does Ginger look like, her hair color, how tall she is, and some ideas where she would be. Mrs. Foutley's job was to call her friends and ask if they've seen Ginger while the police look for her.
She got no answers from Dodie or Macy. She was busy looking for Mitch's phone number, but she never wrote it down. Carl came into the kitchen where his mother was. "Do you know Mitch's phone number?" she asked him, looking frantically through her address book.
"It's in Ginger's cell phone." Carl held up Ginger's cell in his right hand. A pit formed in Mrs. Foutley's stomach. Ginger never went anywhere without her phone. She took the phone and went to the phone book and called Mitch.
The phone rang four times, and still no one answered. "Come on," Mrs. Foutley said agitated. She began to pace around the kitchen, not willing to give up. She would stay on till as long as possible if it meant finding her daughter. Someone picked up the phone. "Hello?" asked a tired voice.
"Mitch, is that you?"
"Yeah, who is this?"
"This is Ginger's mom."
"Oh…hi," Mitch said casually.
"Have you seen Ginger?" she asked practically shouting.
"Not since school got out. Why?" he asked starting to sound a bit worried.
"She's not here. I went to go check on her last nigh, and she was gone. Do you have any idea where she would be?"
There was a pause. "Nope. I have no clue. Do you want me to help look?"
"No, it's ok," Mrs. Foutley said with a sigh. "You get some rest. Don't worry about Ginger, I'm sure she's fine."
"If you find her, call me."
"Ok, bye Mitch."
"Talk to you later."
Mrs. Foutley clicked off the phone. Carl looked at her with questioning eyes. "He hasn't seen her either." After many more tries wit the same result, the mother exited to the living room and sat on the couch near the phone. She didn't take her eyes off of it. Carl watched his Mom, thinking about Ginger.
"She better be all right," Carl thought as he went back to his room. "I've never seen Mom like this before." Carl sat, looking out his window, waiting for Ginger to come back.
The next day, still no Ginger. The neighborhood formed a search group to look for her. Mrs. Foutley had forbidden Carl and Hoodsie to come with, just incase they did find something. Mitch was amongst the first to arrive at the Foutley's house, along with Dodie and Macy. "We want to help." But Mrs. Foutley wouldn't allow it. "Please," Mitch pleaded. "Ginger means a lot to me, and I really want to help find her." This made Mrs. Foutley smile. With a nod, she decided to let the three come with. They would be in her group.
While everyone searched the neighborhood and where other places Ginger like to hang out at, Carl and Hoodsie walked through the park that Ginger and Mitch was the previous night. "I wonder where Ginger is," Hoodsie said breaking the silence. Carl said nothing. He kicked a rock with the toe of his shoe. "What do you think could have happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it!" Carl yelled at his best friend. Hoodsie was shocked by his friend's sudden outburst. "Ok? Everything is going to be ok. I hope." Carl muttered the last bit to himself. He picked up the stone that he was kicking, and threw it, frustrated, into the lake.
"Where the hell are you Ginge?" he asked in his mind as he watched the rock plunge to the bottom of the lake, causing the water to ripple into little waves.
The search ended with no success. Three days had passed, and there was still no news about Ginger and her where about. Mrs. Foutley had rarely left the phone. And Carl was not allowed to leave the house, his mom was too worried. It's not like he wanted to anyways.
Mrs. Foutley sat in her regular spot, thinking about all these horrible things that could have happened to her only daughter. Was she kidnapped? Did she run away? Where was she? Was she safe? Was she hurting? Horrible thoughts of different ways Ginger could be tortured or even killed played through Mrs. Foutley's mind. She blinked back tears that were springing up in her eyes, trying not to think about all of those morbid thoughts. She had to keep her hopes up. She had to keep thinking and praying that Ginger would return home safely. But her hope was running short, and she was worn down from the lack of sleep. This was truly Hell in her mind.
Just then, the phone rang. It only rang once before Mrs. Foutley snatched it up. "Hello?" she asked eagerly.
"Mrs. Foutley," the voice on the other said. It was police chief, who had become Mrs. Foutley's new friend, and source of hope through these hard days. "Mrs. Foutley, we've found your daughter."
And cut! Yeah, that looks like a good spot to end. Don't it? Sighs, I know what it's like to be in Carl's place. It sucks. (R.I.P. Lydia) So, who wants me to update soon? If you do, then, REVIEW! REVIEWS YOU STUPID MOTHER FUCKERS….just kidding, I love you. I'm sorry for calling you motherfuckers, unless you don't review. So like last time if you review, you can be my friend and I shall give you a complimentary bag of delicious cookies. If you don't then feel the wrath of Mr. Sniffles! May Mr. Sniffles feast upon your soul! Anyone liked it? Anyone hated it? Then tell me. Now I must leave.
With Love
Sincerely yours
Your buddy
Cold Toenails
Aka
CT
Then End :)