"Please, take a seat," the officer offered me as he lead me into an interview room. It looked like he had just seen a ghost. He was pale white. I couldn't get over how shocked he looked. Was it really that rare for someone to return after being gone for years? "I'm Detective Carlson. I was the second detective assigned to your case a few years ago. Detective Holden was the lead detective on your case. I just contacted him and he should be here soon," he explained to me. I nodded. I didn't know what to say. What else would there of been to say? "I'm just going to get a file, you just stay here I'll be right back," he told me as he rambled on. He seemed like he was flustered. How odd. He flew out the door as soon as he finished his sentence. I laughed to myself. Well where else would I go?

  I sat down in one of those spin chairs which the colour had darkened with time. The arm rests looked as if they had been worn out, but I still placed my arms upon them. It was rather dark in that room, only one light above me. The interview rom looked more like a conference room, a place where officers would hold meetings. The long table looked as if brand new, although it seemed they couldn't afford new chairs. There were a few small windows in the room, but the shades had been drawn. Cold, clean air was held inside, making my skin developed bumps. How I wish I had clean, dry clothes about now. Not these damp things that have been drenched with rain. My clothes were much drier than before, but still, big chunks of dampness were plastered and stuck on my sweater and jeans. Not all comfortable anymore. Surely they would hand me a blanket or a towel once they return, if they have any of those here.

  As I glanced more around the room, I noticed there were bulletin boards surrounding it, with newspaper clippings and papers posted all over them. Many said things that were related to the police, like a robbery or a fire. Lots with pictures of the police surrounding a crime scene. And other papers had the words 'Missing' written across the top in red. As I looked from one bulletin to the other, to another, there was one in particular that caught my eye. I studied the picture of the girl further, as I stood up from the worn out chair and walked towards it. It was my grade nine school picture on the front of a newspaper. As I stepped closer to it, it came more into view.
Man, that picture was a nice one.
How my medium length dark hair flowed beautifully into waves down the front of one side. My makeup was just right too.How did I do that? I guess I looked a bit different now. My hair was much longer, the waves I once had were no longer present. The weight of my long hair now straightened the waves. I had also aged four years. There wasn't much of a difference in looks for me between the ages of fourteen to eighteen. But perhaps I just grew into my looks and features more. My weight had changed as well, as I looked at myself in the windows reflection near by and then to my ninth grade photo, my face looked thinner, but not sickly thin. My eyes then wandered onto the headlines:

"Missing 14 Year Old Girl, Jaycee Thompson"

  And then there was a story about me. But I didn't need to read it. I already had the inside scoop. As well as a scoop that no one else knew.
The real story.

  Beside that news clipping, another one was posted with a different picture of me. This one was from a family portrait. Only it was cropped to just me. I remembered this day all too well; my family tried weeks to book this picture. It had taken awhile to get it together, since most of my family lived in other towns near by, and the weather turned out to be nasty every day we planned. They wanted it taken outside, but they had to wait for just the right day. Every time they tried to plan it, the day would turn out to be shitty, like a rain day. Or sometimes it was too windy. Eventually we all just said screw it, as we planned a day and stuck with it. That day turned out to be pretty windy, but we made it work. The original picture we had taken, was with me and my four cousins. Since I was an only child, and also the middle grandchild in our family, I was in the middle of that picture. However I did have a sibling at one point, but that story is for another time. I was third youngest, third oldest when it came to the age range of cousins. The picture, this picture turned out to be the nicest one we took that day in the park, and that was the one we gave our grandparents. They were thrilled of course.

  I looked even better in this picture than my school one. My skin gave off a healthy glow and the sun shined just right that it showed off my lighter tones of brown in my brunette hair. My green eyes looked radiant too as they sparkled in the sun. As my eyes stayed glued onto it, I was so focussed on this picture of myself that I didn't even realized the headline of this news clipping:

"Disappearance Turned Murder: Missing Teen Jaycee Thompson's Body Found"

  My eyes grew wider, not believing what I just read. What? No. I must have read it wrong.
I looked back at the headline once more, but the words did not change. They remained the same. My eyes then glued to the headline, as I kept on repeating the words in my head. "Body Found." How is that possible? How can my body be found if I am not dead? Is this really happening? I must be seeing things. This can't be real? Who's body, or remains were those then? Is that why the detective was acting all funny? Because up until this point everyone believed I was dead? My father believed that? My family? No, I have to see them now! They need to know I'm alive!

  I quickly spun around as I heard the door behind me slam. Another officer stood there beside Detective Carlson. He too looked white as his eyes began to grow wide like saucers.

  "W..what is going on?" I started to ask questions while I pointed to the newspaper clipping. "Why does it say body found?" I heard as my voice began to grow louder and crack. They both stood there for a moment, just staring at me from a distance. This would be my life now. I thought to myself.

  "Please, Jaycee, just sit down. We will explain," Detective Holden stated. I stood there for another moment until I listened to him and slowly walked back to the table and chairs. They did the same, but instead sat across from me. Still with the shocked expression on all of our faces. Detective Carlson started to pull apart the file that had my name on it. "Jaycee," Detective Holden went on before I interupted him.

  "Why does it say I'm dead?" I asked fastly.

  "We got a call a few days after the first year anniversary of your disappearance," he started to tell. "The number was blocked and the voice was muffled. The caller confessed to killing you, and gave us the location of your body, and then just hung up. We tried tracing the number but we got nothing," he took a breath while I gave a confused look. So, they just believed him? Took his words as true? That can't be the full story. They're police, they can't be that stupid.

  "So you just took his word on it?" I asked sounding a bit more angry then expected.

  "No, we went to the location where he said he buried you. We found bone fragments in that spot, underneath some clothing that was later identified as yours. That's when we came up with a theory."

  "Which was?"

  "We figured he killed you a few hours after he took you and buried you there. And the day he called was the aniversary of your death, so he was waiting a year to torture us so we would believe you were still alive," Detectivd Holden finished. I sat there for a second to process it. But I didn't speak back, only sat silent waiting for him to continue. "There wasn't enough bones to identify them, and since the bones and your clothes were right where he said they would be, we figured your body once lied there and over the year it decade, or maybe an animal got to it." I just sat there silently, letting all this information be taken in. I couldn't get over it. So when I was in the woods today, everyone still thought I was dead. When I was in hiding for four years, everyone thought I was dead? They had a funeral for me? They have a grave somewhere in this town for me? Why didn't my friend tell me about this? Did she know herself? Did she not want to upset me? Or perhaps they never said anything about me at all, and she figured out herself?

  I had asked for a few minutes alone before they started to ask me questions. I knew the first one they were going to ask: "where have you been for these years?" And trust me, I didn't want to answer. They never caught him. Which means he was still out there. All I kept thinking of was his threats. I couldn't tell them the truth. The truth was terrible. If I told them, it would get out and hurt so many others. Especially my family. That couldn't happen.

  "Jaycee? We really need to talk now," Detective Holden interupted my train of thought as he pocked his head back into the interview room. I exhaled and agreed to start. They both entered and sat back down in their spots. Detective Holden then got a pad and pen out, along with a tape recorder and placed it down on the table. The other detective got ahold of the pen and paper and began to write. I inhaled deeply, letting it all out in exhaustion. Here we go.

  "So Jaycee. Lets start from the beginning. What happened the day you disappeared?" Detective Holden asked the first question of many to come. I paused for a second, thinking of a story to tell them. Like I said, the truth wasn't an option. I knew they wouldn't believe it. Maybe they would, but I didn't want to chance they wouldn't.

  "I had to leave."

  "So, you ran away?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "I... I just had to. I didn't belong here. I wasn't a good person, I was mean to everyone. No one liked me. I just had to get out of here," I explained to them, hoping they would buy it. It seemed like they did.

  "What do you mean no one liked you?" Detective Carlson asked.

  "Just that. No one liked me. I was a bitch to lots of people. I was the popular and mean girl in school. I put others down to feel better about myself. I was an awful person, I know that now, but I didn't at the time. All I cared about was being popular. I didn't care who I was hurting. I liked to control everyone," I finally finished. It wasn't a complete lie. I was like that before. But that wasn't the reason why I disappeared. It was something totally different, as you partly know.

  There was a long pause as the detective wrote some things down.

  "So you just left?"

  "Yes. I packed my bags and left."

  "But when your father reported you missing, none of your belongings were gone. We asked him to check incase you did in fact run away," Detective Carlson interrupted. My eyes grew a bit wider. I felt a bit panicked. Crap. I've been caught. You might as well just tell the truth now. Tell them how you were taken. Tell them what he did to you. Tell them about his threats. Tell him you couldn't go back and that's why you ran away, to stay away from him. From your captor who lived in your town. If you tell them about his threats, they can protect you. They can help you. Tell the truth!
No! Stop Jaycee! Keep it cool. Stick to your story. Play something up. Don't tell the truth! Don't you remember what he told you if you told anyone about him?! He will kill all your family! He will kill you! Stick to the plan!

  "Oh, I... I meant that as an expression. I packed my bags and left. You know?" I tried to brush it off. They seemed to buy that too. They both gave me a puzzled look before going on.

  "Oh, ooookkkk.....so where did you go that night then?"

  "I just took off that night. I went down the highway and into the woods. I heard the forest was a quicker way to Maryville than the road." I didn't tell them the actual town I went to, for reasons I will explain later. I knew how crazy the short cut through the woods sounded. They both gave me a weird look. As they glanced at each other quickly.

  "So, you didn't bring anything with you? You just took off into the woods?" They asked confusingly. I could tell they didn't believe me. Or perhaps they just believed my mind was mixed up. I have to get out of here. I have to get home. They don't believe this story either. Should I switch it now? No. If I do then they will definitely think I'm making it up. Stick to your plan and go along with this. But as I thought about it some more, I thought that some of the truth was believable. And then suddenly, I found myself spilling part of the truth as I began to speak more.

  "Ok, so I didn't tell you guys something. It was just, that I was afraid. There was this guy at my school that hated me. I was so mean to him and I was scared for my safety. I was walking that night and I thought I saw him following me, that's when I ran into the woods so I would lose him. But I guess I ran too far into them and I got lost so I just started walking until I got to Maryville. I was scared to come back because I was scared of that guy." I couldn't believe I basically told them the truth, just not about the guy, or Jackville, or my friend. Their eyes both lit up like a childs on christmas morning. I could tell they believed this more, partly because it was the truth. And from that moment, I could also tell they were putting two and two together, matching up the puzzle in their heads.

  "What was this guys' name? Maybe that guy is the one who called in and said he killed you. Because he wanted us to stop searching for you," Detective Holden asked me.

  "I..I don't know his name. He was only in our school for a few months. I don't even remember what he looks like," I quickly explained, hoping they would drop it. But little did they know that I knew who called and confessed. It was him. My captor. But as far as he knew, he did kill me. He just didn't know I got out and ran.

  And suddenly, a slam startled me as the door shut behind myself. Who was coming in? Another detective? Someone else to take my statement? I sat there not looking behind myself at all. Just waiting for the new officer to come around and face me along with the others. But as I looked straight ahead, I saw Detective Holden and Carlson look up in the direction of the person who just walked in, and stayed staring. But no one came around to face me. I gave them a confused look as I turned around myself to face the mystery person. My face then suddenly changed from confused to shock as I realized who this person was. He stood tall in front of me as his light hair that did not match mine hadn't changed one bit. How it was kept short but not quite buzzed, and his face changing with age and grief for those four years. He looked much slimmer than he once was, and more lean. The man gave me a slight smile as I stood up and wrapped my arms around him. It was my father.