Metaphorical Labyrinth

Chapter 2

Fred McCafferty

by: Apathy_
Fred Mc Cafferty lay on the couch in his living room, watching the news with his father. He always watched the news, even though his friends thought it was stupid of him. They found the news boring.
“Tottenham are supposed to be getting a new manager,” Fred informed his father. He snorted.
“Hopefully he'll be better than the last one. He messed up the team,” Mr McCafferty scoffed. Fred nodded his agreement and turned his attention back to the television. The news reporter shuffled his papers and launched into a new story.
“Irish teenager, Cat Sullivan, has been missing in New York City for the past seventy-two hours.” Cat Sullivan? Not... Not that Cat Sullivan. Surely not that one... “Fourteen year old Cat was on holidays with her parents when she went out to buy milk at a near by convenience store for her parents. But she never returned.” Fourteen years old... Fred still refused to believe it was her.
“Security cameras in the shop tell us that she did, in fact, arrive at the convenience store, and went missing on her way back. Kidnap is suspected. The Gardai and New York City Police Department are asking anyone who may have witnissed the encounter or who may have information concerning Miss Sullivan's whereabouts to come forward immediately. Mr and Mrs Sullivan were unavailable for comment.”
And then Cat Sullivan's face filled the flat screen. The curly blonde hair, the clear skin, the big brown eyes, and the perfect teeth. To Fred, she looked even more gorgeous than she ever had before. Maybe it was the knowledge that he'd probably never see her again...
As he thought that, it hit him, like someone had punched him in the stomach. He might never see her again. What was the last thing he'd said to her? He couldn't remember, but he hoped it was something nice. He didn't want to have to live knowing that the last thing he said to a dead girl was something horrible...
His Dad was looking at him strangely. “Haven't I seen her somewhere before?” asked his dad. Fred nodded blankly.
“She's in my year,” he said quietly. “Brilliant at art, you would've seen her in the paper. She's won loads of competitions...” His voice trailed off. He could feel the blood draining from his face. His dad nodded severly.
“I remember her now. Good looking girl, isn't she?” he said, passively. Fred just nodded numbly. “I hope they find her. Imagine what her family must be going through...” Fred jerked. He hadn't thought about that. If this was how he felt, imagine how they must feel! And all her friends... She had so many friends.
Fred pulled out his phone. “I'm calling Mark,” he told his dad, his voice shaking slightly. His dad nodded and changed the channel. “Be quick. You might miss the game.”
Fred just shook his head disbelievingly. How could he think about stupid football at a time like this?! He darted from the room to upstairs, where he slept. He keyed Mark's number into his mobile frantically. Mark answered on the fourth ring.
“Yeah, Fred?” he said. He sounded slightly out of breath.
“Mark, did you see the news?”
A slight pause. Then Mark laughed. “You know I don't watch the news, dude. I'm at footie practise. You're lucky I answered the phone, I was getting a drink.”
Fred sighed. He really didn't want to have to explain this...
“Why?” Mark asked curiously. “Was there a game cancelled?”
“This isn't about football, Mark!” Fred said exasperatedly. This was stupid. Why did he call Mark?!
“Then what is it about?!” Mark said impatiently. “Look, the coach is gonna get seriously pissed off if I don't get off the phone soon, so spit it out, would ya!”
“Fine!” Fred said. “It's Cat. Cat Sullivan. She's gone missing. In New York.”
Mark paused. Then he laughed again. “Stop messing with me, bro.”
“I'm not messing with you! It was just on the news! Dude, I'm freaking out! What if she's dead?!”
“Wait... You're serious?” Mark sounded younger now, more vulnerable.
“Yeah... yeah, I'm serious...”
“COACH, I'M GOING HOME!” Fred heard Mark yell.
“I'll call you back later,” Mark shot down the phone. He still sounded younger.
“Yeah... Whatever...” Fred answered, disorientated. Mark hung up.
Fred dropped the phone and lay on his back, fully clothed. It still hadn't sunk in. Cat had been that girl. You know the one. The one all the guys liked, and the girls wanted to be, even the older ones. She was the girl who didn't need to wear makeup because her face was so perfect. She was a size three. She wore short skirts or skinny jeans; very skinny jeans. She seemed like a slut, but she never went out with anyone, and she never even kissed anyone. As far as they knew, anyway. Cat was outgoing. She was the type of girl who was perfectly sweet and harmless; but if you laid a finger on her or her friends, she would beat the living crap out of you. What had happened to her that someone was able to take her away, or, God forbid, kill her? Fred couldn't figure it out. No one took on Cat Sullivan and won. No one.

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