Posted by: DIYwriting | June 25, 2021

Without a Trace

“Adam!  Jenny!  Michael!  I’m home,” I called as I kicked the door closed behind me.  I struggled through to the kitchen and managed to get all the bags onto the island without dropping a single thing. 

“I’m home,” I called again.  I started putting the groceries away, listening with one ear for any noise coming from above.  Or below.  Or anywhere.  After a few minutes, I realized there was no noise coming from the rest of the house.  Not a footstep, not a cough.  Nothing.  Even the dog was quiet.  I was only at the store for forty-five minutes so where could they have gone off to so quickly?  And wouldn’t they have at least written a quick note? 

As I did a quick search of the house and there was not a single person or dog in the house.  As my heart started to pound, my thoughts went to the worst.  I sat down in the middle of the hallway and thought about what I should do next.  Would the police even believe me?  That they were here and now there’s no trace?  As I picked up my phone to call 911 to report my missing family, I slowly put it back down again. 

This was my chance.  My chance to disappear out of a life I never wanted.  A life with no husband, no kids, no dog, no suburban housewife tale.  My chance was finally here to get out and escape.  To finally run away with my lover. 


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