The Family Disappeared On New Year’s Eve

My neighbor, Mrs. Wilson, opened the door.

I could hear laughter and celebration from inside her home.

She was stunned to see me.

I tried to hold back my tears and asked, “Mrs. Wilson, have you seen my parents and my little sister?”

I had hoped to hear the answer I was looking for from a neighbor I had known for over a decade.

Instead, Mrs. Wilson looked confused

“Luna? Haven’t you always lived on your own?”

She said it gently, but I instantly understood what she meant.

“Are you saying I’m an orphan?”

Mrs. Wilson’s face was filled with pity. She did not want to hurt me, but her expression said it all.

My legs went weak. I could barely stand.

Mrs. Wilson’s daughter wandered out, grabbed my hand, and gave me a handful of chips.

“Is she okay? Look, why don’t you join us for New Year’s?

“The more, the merrier! It’s no big deal, we’ve got plenty of room!”

Despite her warm invitation, a chill ran through my body.

I did not remember how, but I managed to decline them politely. I eventually made my way back home.

It was an old apartment in a building from the 90s; the unit was neither too big nor too small. It was ordinary yet cozy.

My family of four had lived there for over a decade.

I was supposed to graduate from university next year.

How could I be an orphan?

Evidence of my family was still everywhere in the house.

On the dining table, the four place settings from the New Year’s Eve dinner sat untouched. They had yet to be cleared away.

My parents’ and Stella’s bedrooms were filled with their personal belongings.

Even the spots where my parents had been sitting still held a lingering warmth.

I stared at the washroom directly across the room.

There, on the wall, was the record of my sister’s and my heights.

My mother had thoughtfully wrapped the door handle in decorative lace.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary when I looked at it.

Unsure if I should step inside, I shuddered.

Just then, my phone vibrated frantically.

Messages from my best friend, Kathy Scott, started popping up one after another.

[Luna, what were you talking about just now? Did something happen?]

I did not reply to her.

I had panicked earlier and had completely forgotten that I had WhatsApp.

I quickly tapped on my mother’s WhatsApp profile and called her.

I called several times in a row, but no one answered.

My heart sank deeper.

I could not reach my father or Stella either.

What in the world was going on?

With trembling hands, I sent Kathy a quick message to let her know I was safe.

But I did not know how to even begin explaining this bizarre situation.

The very next second, someone frantically pounded on my front door.

Through the peephole, I saw it was my boyfriend, Jesse Field.

Outside the door, his forehead beaded with sweat as he looked at me worriedly.

“What are you doing here?”

I was stunned.

His family lived in the neighboring city. Driving here would take at least three or four hours.

That was why my first instinct had been to reach out to Kathy for help, not him.

“Luna, are you okay?

“I messaged you, but you never replied. I got worried that something might have happened to you,” Jesse asked as he waved his phone.

He had texted me over fifty messages.

His earliest message was sent right around the time I discovered Stella was missing.

Back then, I had been too frantic to check them.

Remembering my family’s strange disappearance, all my pent-up emotions came crashing down.

I hugged him and began to sob incoherently.

“What do I do? I can’t get through to my mom!

“They went into the washroom, and then they just vanished!”

Jesse glanced at my phone screen.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but hesitated.

“Isn’t this your secondary number?

“Why would you call your own number?”