The Search Begins
"Tell me exactly what happened!" John demanded, slamming his fists on the table.
I flinched, my dad didn't normally raise his voice.
"She called me-"
"Called you? Why wasn't she in the house? I told you-"
"She's a kid John!" Bobby interrupted, "I'll be damned if I wasn't supposed to let her go for a run once and a while."
"'Once in a while'?" My dad fumed, "Was this a pattern?"
"Did she go for a run, every day?" I could see my dad slowly calming down as his professional side kicked in.
"Yeah, I guess."
"Bobby I need facts, did she, or did she not, go for a run every day."
"Always at the same time?"
"Always around eleven-ish."
My dad sighed and ran a hand over his face as the information sunk in.
"Dad what is it?" I asked softly.
"But you never followed her?" My dad dismissed my question with a wave of his hand as he thought things through.
"No, she would turn left and she told me she just followed the sidewalk down the block."
"But you never, in fact, saw where she went?"
"No," Bobby answered her.
"Did she ever mention seeing a car, or anybody following her?"
"John..."Bobby sighed, "She only told me that some guy was chasing her over the phone the day she went missing."
"But she never said a name? No description?"
"All she said was 'it's him'."
"Dad we know who it is," I said, "It's her father."
"No Dean, we don't know for sure."
I couldn't believe that, "Isn't it obvious? Guy escapes prison, you move Lily up here, can't find the man in Kansas, and now Lily goes missing? What aren't we sure about?"
"We can't jump to conclusions," My dad stated firmly.
"No!" he interrupted, holding up a hand, "Dean, the last thing Lily needs is for us to go on some wild goose chase. We need to find her. Quickly. For all we know it could've been someone she's met at a foster home or something." At the look of disbelief on my face my dad added, "Yes, her father is a prime suspect, and we are doing everything we can to find him. Right now we need to know, for sure, who took her and where, understand?" When I didn't reply right away he repeated, "Understand?"
"Yes sir," I mumbled.
I woke up with a throbbing sensation in my head that pulsed with each heartbeat. My hands were bound with an itchy rope. I didn't know how long I had been out or where I was and that unknown knowledge was terrifying.
"What the...?" I groaned and pushed myself into a sitting position, using the wall to hoist myself up.
My eyes wandered around the darkness, only able to distinguish anything from the little window across the room. Wait... I squinted until I was sure that I knew that window.
I lay on the carpet, my arms behind my head as I stared out the window. The rainstorm was pounding away outside. The drops making little trails down the glass.
"Whatchya doing down here?" my mother asked, walking down the basement steps, in her arms was a basket of laundry.
I shrugged, "Looking at the rain."
"Huh," she paused when she was standing by my head and looked out at the window thoughtfully, "You must get a pretty good view."
I shrugged again.
She went over and dumped the clothes in the washing machine then sat next to me, "You want to tell me why you're really down here Lily?"
"I'm tired of being afraid."
"Afraid of what?" she combed back my hair from my face.
"The kids at school who make fun of me."I looked up at her, waiting for her to promise that everything wold be okay, waiting for her to assure me that the world would keep going, or that she would make my problems disappear.
"Want to know a secret?"
I pushed myself off the floor and nodded eagerly.
"Nobody can make you afraid, not unless you let them, got it?"
I felt my eyes burn at the memory, knowing full well that there would be more to come. Because I knew where I was now. I was home.
"You drove me back to Kansas?" I asked, my throat scratchy. I don't know how I was positive that my father was in the basement with me.
I heard something shuffle in the corner to the left of me but didn't bother to look.
"You should've just waited for Sunday," I continued after I'd cleared my throat, "They would've driven me back for you."
"Who? That petty foster family of yours?" He snorted, I heard him walking closer until he appeared in sight, "Yes I've heard all about those Winchesters." He leaned forward and crouched down so that I could smell his alcoholic breath.
"Who?" I asked, feigning ignorance looking straight at him and meeting his cold eyes. For once I didn't feel any fear of this man, we both knew how this would end.
"Don't play those games with me girl," he threatened, "I heard that Mr. Winchester is quite the police officer."
"I have no idea what you're-"
He grabbed my hair and pinned my head against the wall. I bit my lip to keep from whimpering.
"You care about this foster family, eh?"
When I didn't reply he rambled on.
"That's good...yes, because you see, your dear Mr. Winchester worked at the prison I was in, did he tell you that?"
I closed my eyes, 'Not true,' I thought.
"He didn't, did he?"
"I'm sure he had his reasons not to tell," I finally replied, as evenly as I could manage.
"That's a nice theory," he said, he grabbed something out of his back pocket. A gun. Not just any gun, the gun.
"Like it?" My father taunted, showing me the gun from every angle, "Bought it off a guy at the bar."
"Help!" I screamed as soon as I recognized it, but my cries were cut short as he pulled his arm back and struck the side of my head with the butt of the gun. I flopped to the ground, the world blurry as I slowly fell into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.
My dad dropped the gun and lifted my upper body by grabbing my shirt,"I think you and I are going to have some quality time together, my dear."