It was Owen. It was Owen. It was Owen. Owen took my brother. I saw it. He told me. No one believed me. If I end up missing, or you find my corpse somewhere. It was Owen. Please believe me this time.
It was after school. My friends invited me to go to an after party from homecoming, because I didn’t go. We went to a restaurant, and ordered a steak. As I pitched in, I noticed from outside the window, my older brother Sam. It was weird because Sam didn’t have much of a life. He just sits around all day and plays the playstation. But I didn’t give it a second thought. I thought about pointing it out to my friends, who were busy eating down the steak, but I didn’t want to be embarrassed and ruin their conversation. I saw him. I saw Sam get into the back seat of a car. An expensive looking car. I think it was a Cadillac. I’m not exactly a car person. I remember what he was wearing. Sweatpants and a t-shirt, as if he never left our house that day. What I saw next confused me. I saw a figure talking through the back window of the car. When it became clearer, it was Owen. A popular kid at school I had never talked to. He wore his stupid light blazer even though it was a thousand degrees outside and jeans. Maybe he was at homecoming because of his combed hair. But the car left anyway. My brother didn’t even go to school. So why was he talking to one of my classmates? Was he scamming him out of a weed deal? That was likely, because I know anyone at my school would be looking anywhere for a scrap of cash. It didn’t make sense. But like I said. I didn’t give it a second thought.
My brother didn’t come home. My brother never came home. A missing report was filed. But I knew where he was. “It was Owen! Owen took my brother!” I cried to the police. The kids at school. The teachers. But nobody listened. For the days that followed, I followed around Owen and his friend group. Being the creepy kid. I repeated the same question. “Where’s my brother Owen?” Everyone called me a creep. Even my own friends started to get worried about me. But every time I pleaded to them, they never believed me. They tried to be nice, but it just wasn’t enough. I followed him everywhere he went for a few weeks. Whether it be at opposite ends of the lunchroom, I would stare at him. For the classes we had together, I would sit next to him and do nothing but stare and ask the same question. “Where is my brother Owen?” He lied every time. Him and his group were getting sick of me. But he was lying. I knew it. I could tell he was lying through his teeth every time he denied it. They complained to the principal and had me set up with the student council. But once she started to doubt me, I ignored her. Me and the rest of my family (my mother and father), of course, couldn’t sleep. But whenever I did I had horrible dreams. Dreams of darkness, with ever so glimpse of a prison cage. I would see a pure red fire, followed by screaming, that was not my brothers. I would wake up in a cold sweat, and proceed back to endless research into Owens family. Apparently his father won an award in psychology. But that wasn’t anything I could use. No bad history. No mistakes. It was perfect. Their family was perfect. But it wasn’t. Owen had taken my brother.
I have two pieces of proof so far. Seeing him with my brother at the restaurant. And what happened in the workshop room. We were goofing off by building random things with wood, as the workshop teacher doesn’t really care about his job. Normally, I joined in by doing whatever my friends were doing. But I sat in silence, staring at Owen from across the room. My hands on the wooden table. Yes I am aware of how creepy and ghostly I look. But I don’t care. I felt extra anxious today, well compared to most days since my brother’s disappearance. I decided to confront him again straightforwardly. I walked up to him, while he was holding a basketball and his phone in two different hands. “Wheres my brother Owen?” I said. “I don’t know man. Hope you find him.” At first, he was awkward and didn’t know how to reply. But now I figured he just said that to avoid attention.
I asked once more until finally the workshop teacher approached me and told me to knock it off. “Rainer, I know your brother’s disappearance is hard, it’s hard for all of us. But please, go home and do something productive rather than blame it on your fellow classmate” He yelled. It was definitely one of those moments when the chill teacher flipped out on a student. The student was never me, but I didn’t care. Everyone stared at the teacher in disgust for yelling at the kid who was clearly having psychological problems. He quickly began to apologize, but of course once again, I didn’t care. It was what happened after everyone left. I’m not sure how. The room was almost completely empty. Owen was always in his friend group. But this time he wasn’t. I was left staring at the wall from afar, right behind the eclectic saw, when I swear he approached from behind me. “Your brother is doing quite well” I turned around. Owen spoke in a voice I had never heard before. At that moment, it all came back. The darkness, the red fire, the prison cell. I heard screaming and I covered my ears. I fell to my knees and shut my eyes. I didn’t notice at the time, but I was screaming too. Trying to cut off the annoying piercing screams I was hearing. I’m not sure how long it lasted, but the workshop teacher managed to help me up, along with my friends. I couldn’t speak for the rest of the day. I kept hearing flashes of my brother’s voice. At first I thought it was my brain speculating. But I should have trusted it from the beginning. Owen took my brother. And now I have to follow him. I’m following him after school. No matter what gets in my way. I am finding my brother.