Lee hated it.
Everything's all sticky and sweaty, and pools, the only thing to cool you down, is a sure way of getting coronavirus. Ah, Covid-19, another thing she hated. It's not like she had many, (or any), friends she missed or disliked masks with a flaming passion, or even that lots of people were dying. She hated that school was canceled.
Academics were about the only field she thrived in (She tried interning at an animal shelter for a week and got fired for turning dead animals into science experiments) and the fact that the only fun thing was over. That was another reason why she hated summer.
"Lee, can you pass the salt?" Hannah asked, with a kind smile on her face, just like all the other phony foster parents she previously had.
"Can't you just grab it yourself; Last time I checked you had arms," Lee said, nibbling on her purposely burnt toast.
Hannah and her husband, Roy exchanged glances. They apparently didn't know what they were getting into.
"So, um, Lee, what stuff do you like to do, for- uh, fun?" Roy asked.
"Writing formal essays, biology, neuroscience, conducting tests on unsuspecting pigeons, you know, the norm."
Hannah half-choked on her eggs during the pigeon part and tried to cover it up by coughing.
"I'm going to go on a walk around the neighborhood, I'll be back in a half-hour," Lee said, standing up.
"O-okay, have fun," Hannah said as Lee slammed the front door closed.
"Time to get out of here," she said, smiling.
Her cheap bus ticket was scheduled for 9:15, and it was only a few blocks away. She had bought it using a stolen credit card from a stranger's purse she took a few days ago. Her plan wasn't going to fail this time.
Lee hoisted herself up to her new bedroom window, grabbed her worn backpack, and scaled back down the building. She sprinted away down the street, raindrops starting to fall. She had always loved rain; It always helped her think straight, like wiping all the grime off a dirty window.
After a minute or two, she arrived at the bus stop, right on time. A few other people were waiting too, a few men in suits, a grandma, a mom and her son, and an angsty looking teenage girl, wearing a heavy load of black eyeshadow.
That was when it happened.
When an unsuspecting 15-year-old girl in jeans and a tee, wearing a backpack full of stolen lab equipment and a credit card, disappeared.
dis·ap·pear/ˌdisəˈpir/ - verb - past tense: disappeared; past participle: disappeared
cease to be visible."he disappeared into the trees"
Lee did not "disappear" like the example from the English dictionary shows. She disappeared as in being visible one second, and completely and utterly in-visible during the next, not behind some trees, or in a bus.
Now, I'm not one to believe in magic, but in my experiences, people just don't tend to disappear.
From my experiences, I've also learned that just because something can't be seen, doesn't mean it's not there.