Confessions About Colton (Wattpad Books Edition)

Chapter 5

The following morning, I drove out to Scott's Storage Solutions. I had barely gotten any sleep the previous night. Following my creepy encounter with Rick, I'd gotten into my gym clothes and worked out. But it felt like I was being watched the whole time. I couldn't stop thinking about what Rick had said, and even when I was safely back home again, I was awake for a majority of the night, staring up at my ceiling, my brain a commotion of incoherent thoughts.

But once eight o'clock rolled around, I was out of bed and in my car. It was a short fifteen-minute drive to my destination. I took the back route to avoid the morning traffic. Administration wouldn't be there until nine, but people were able to go in and retrieve their things anytime. Clutching the key in my hand, I stepped out of my car and walked toward the place.

It seemed the area was divided into three sections. Garage-sized storage rooms were to the right and they were all painted green. To the left were some medium-sized red lockers, big enough to fit a person.

And straight ahead was the administration building and a wall of small yellow lockers. They were similar to the size you could find at theme parks or bus stations, with enough room to fit a backpack and other smaller personal belongings.

I looked at the key in my hand. Since the keychain attached to it was yellow, I started heading toward the small lockers. I wasn't sure what I would find, but eliminating the larger lockers made me feel ten times lighter. It eliminated an abundance of possibilities.

But I had also watched enough horror movies to know that the scariest of items had the potential to come in small packages. Maybe I'd find a gun loaded with bullets. Maybe I'd find a finger from another victim. Maybe I'd find a small, dead animal rotting inside.

My insides were twisting, turning, flipping, and squeezing. It felt like I was on a ride, dropping down, except it was never-ending. Once I had found the locker, I tightened my grip on the key. The jagged teeth sunk into my skin. With a deep breath, I inserted it into the lock.

It turned. I pulled on the locker door. And opened it to reveal two things: a manual to assemble a piece of furniture. And a letter.

I didn't wait to get into my car to read it.

Unappetizing thing, time. Or should I say "thyme." In all honesty, I didn't think you'd find the second letter. I congratulate you for your efforts. Perhaps the world isn't as stupid as I thought.

Now I suppose you want more information, considering you dedicated your time—and thyme—to working this out. Where should I begin then? The night he disappeared? Very well. Something you should know is that Colton talked to me before he left town. His face was unshaven, dark circles under his eyes, skin pale. He was a complete and utter mess.

Which was why he wanted to get out.

He didn't have to tell me why, because I knew. It was May 17. You see, if you had known Colton the way I did, you would have known that every year, on the same day, he disappeared. It took me a while to realize this. The first time was chance, the second was a coincidence, but the third was a pattern. And this continued for more years to come. If you were to look at his school records, you'd see a significant amount of absences that happened to fall on the exact same day.

It wasn't always like this. And I bet you're wondering why.

Let's backtrack eight years, to May 17. Colton was ten and had a fascination with trains. But that's too generic. Anyone could have noticed that. He was just a child, after all. But eight years ago, on May 17, Colton made an early transition from childhood to adulthood.

Which brings us to the second confession: Colton watched a man die.

Harrison Noel, aged twenty-three, crossed the street. He had a phone pressed to his ear and a coffee in his spare hand. He was on his way back to university for an afternoon class, talking to his pregnant girlfriend. The roads were clear, no vehicles in sight, the safest opportunity to cross. Then suddenly, a car turned the corner. It happened quickly. A man, a car, a collision, a death.