This is not a confession. More like an... insight. An insight into the game I really like to play. It's been about a month and a half since the boy, we'll call him Tim, went missing. Before I go on, I will say yes, I am the one who kidnapped him, yes he is still alive. He was just a young kid, fifteen-years-old. No reason I chose him, no reason I chose any of them specifically, just impulse really. But I digress. What I really want to talk about is what it's like.
Tim is not the first kid to be my prey, there were a few others. I won't get into how I nabbed them up. It wasn't hard, but I'll let your imagination run for a while. Nelson, Tianna, Abby, Nick… all just a couple of teens who trust way too easily.
Now, the neighbors love me. I'm part of the neighborhood watch, I participate in local fundraisers, I even clean the street on Sundays. I even help the families of the victims look for their kidnapped children. We searched for days on end, up and down the whole city. Friends' houses, schools, libraries, malls, the whole nine yards. I put up fliers, talk to the police, everything. Unfortunately, there never was any luck. We never found them… not even bodies. The reason? Well, like I said before, I'll let your imagination work. I almost feel bad sometimes watching the parents frantically search for their children… but I love it. It's almost a high feeling, knowing the devious little secret that they, the parents, do not. I could put their child somewhere, and say I've found them, but then the fun would end. I get to watch families fall apart all because of me, but of course I'm the one there to console them, keep them from giving up hope that they'll see their poor babies again. Of course they won't, but whatever keeps the game going. I'll tell them “Don't give up hope. Your child needs you,” but they don't need them. They're dead.
The last one, Abby we'll call her. Beautiful sixteen-year-old girl. I kept her from her family for three months before letting her family see her again. I'd let her watch the local news as her parents would speak, begging and pleading for their little girl to be brought home. I'd give her hope. I'd tell her eventually that she'd see her family again, I wanted her to believe it. Eventually, she started to. I love when they have hope, because that's the greatest time to take advantage of the situation. That's when you take it away from them. I invited Abby's parents over my house for dinner one night. I told them that they wouldn't have to bring anything and that I would prepare everything. I was already in the middle of prepping when they arrived. I asked them to sit in the dining room and brought them some wine, and told them to help themselves. That's when I brought Abby out. They stared at me and her as I carried her into the dining room. They didn't say a word, they just stared, gazing into my hands. I set her on the dining room table, “dinner is served.” They each started putting some of the thick cuts of meat onto their plates and began to eat. They seemed to genuinely enjoy and savor the meal. About an hour passed and the plates were cleared. I can't even begin to explain the amount of pleasure I had gotten from watching them devour and savor their own precious daughter. Of course, most of the meat I had saved for myself.
I'm not sure how Tim's fate will play out. Only time will tell, I suppose. His parents are still hopeful even nearly two months in. They're so sure that they'll find their boy. Of course, most of the hope is coming from myself. Most of you will think I'm a monster, but I like this game very much. The best part of the game is that no one knows that it's me. I could be your next-door neighbor, your friend, your teacher, or coworker. Just goes to show, you should be careful who you trust.