The Missing

by Kiersten Modglin

the combination of alcohol and attention I hadn’t seen from a man, any man, in years had me feeling giddy and light. Like the fizz at the top of a champagne flute.

I tried to shove down the sudden unease at being in the middle of the ocean surrounded by strangers.

I can’t explain it. I don’t know why the nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong had filled my insides with such vengeance, but as we watched the endless ocean, the gap between us and the shore growing larger and larger, my inner voice screamed that I’d made a terrible mistake.

I couldn’t help staring at them with envy. I’d been carefree once, too. What had happened to that girl? Life. That was the answer.

my breath loud in my ears as chills swept over my arms.

What had once seemed beautiful and peaceful now carried an ominous tone.

The island, green with vast wilderness and untouched mountains, had a large stretch of beach, but no sign of civilization anywhere.

slowly. “It just hit me all of the sudden… Adrenaline, I guess. I’m feeling dizzy.”

The moonlight glimmered off the tears in her eyes, but I pretended not to notice.

Of course, my mind had always wandered to the darkest crevices of possibility. While most people try to see the positive, without my conscious effort—when faced with a situation—my mind has always gone down the rabbit hole of deception and despair.

I made myself believe it with increasing ferocity.

Kill your friends, save yourself. Only one of you will leave alive.

His panic-filled eyes said what he couldn’t articulate into words in front of the present company—that he didn’t trust Noah not to hurt me. But there was no other option.

I heard his voice in the distance. He sounded so far away. Suddenly, black dots began to fill my vision, and I stopped in my tracks, trying to make sense of what was happening. My lungs burned for the air I couldn’t seem to suck in fast enough. I clutched my chest, trying to ease the pain as I felt my knees go weak. “Noah…” I said, or tried to… I couldn’t tell. I felt my legs give way, and seconds later, my body connected with the ground with a loud thud. Darkness found me all at once.

I began hearing the roar of the ocean waves and feeling the warm, salty breeze that could only come from being near the shore.

couldn’t explain the sudden sadness that swept through me.

Sometimes we know the truth about the people we love; we know the truth in our bones and in the fiber of our being, but we can’t admit it, not even to ourselves. Sometimes the truth lies in the quiet moments, in the first thoughts, the answer that pops into our heads before we have time to tamp down the intuition that we so often do, because it’s easier than admitting the truth. We’d rather live with the mistakes we’ve made, shut out the things we’ve learned, the way we’ve grown, than take on the challenge of admitting our marriage sucks, or our friend is toxic, or our relationship with our parents isn’t healthy. So, we ignore the voice, ignore the feeling in our gut that grows stronger every day, and we pretend that life is so much longer than it is and that we’ll get more chances for better days.

My husband didn’t love me. Not like he should. He tolerated me, sure. Took care of me. But some days I felt like little more than something to interrupt his constant flow of work.

A girl could hope. But, at the moment, all my hope was being used up just to make it through the day.

“There’s no room for humility in the real world. People only want you to be humble so they can make sure you don’t shine.”