Disappearance: The Aftermath
Oscar's father stood by the foyer, staring into the abyss of the basement. An eerie prickle on his skin urged him to investigate. Below, the light flickered rhythmically, as if a specter were pacing among the stacks of forgotten trinkets and boxes. When he reached the bottom, he found nothing out of place save for the regal wooden box sitting open behind the piano. Puzzled, he snapped the latch shut and headed back upstairs, intending to question Oscar about what he had been looking for. Entering the living room, he called out Oscar's name. No reply. Agitated, he called out again, his voice echoing against the walls. Again silence.
Oscar's mother looked up, a frown of confusion creasing her forehead. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"I can't find Oscar," his father replied, his voice tightening. "He's not answering."
Oscar's mother reached for her phone, dialing his number. The line went cold no ring, no voicemail, just a hollow silence. As the sky outside bruised into a dark purple, the quiet in the house shifted from strange to terrifying. Panic began to take root.
The authorities arrived shortly after. Questions were asked, flashlights swept through the basement, and statements were taken. By the next morning, Oscar's face was plastered across the news.
The headline read: SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD TEEN MISSING.
Classmates were questioned; Teachers struggled for answers. The world searched for a boy who had learned how to disappear long before he ever vanished. As the weeks turned into months, the Hawthorn home grew quieter and colder. Oscar's room remained a vacuum untouched and frozen in time. Dust gathered on his desk, and his parents' smiles were permanently replaced by the weary lines of grief. Their world had turned upside down, leaving them with a mystery that would haunt their souls forever. The Curse of Eden had claimed yet another son of Adam.