This is based on the song, Leave Out All The Rest, by Linkin Park. Here's a link to the video and here's to the lyrics.
“Pick up, Will, please, pick up,” Kaylee whispered urgently into the tiny speaker of her phone. On the fourth metallic chime, the answering machine kicked in, bringing with it a recording of Will’s lighthearted, carefree voice.
“Will, it’s me again,” she said, after the beep. “Where the heck have you been? I swear, if you’ve been out partying again….” Her rising voice trailed off. “Look, just call me, okay?”
Defeated, Kaylee flipped her phone shut and slid it into her pocket. She took a deep breath and raked her fingers through her dark, thin hair. Why hadn’t he called? He always called. Always. He was reliable that way, even if that was the only way.
She heard the click of a lock and the turning of a knob. The front door swung open and in walked Harvey Miller, Chief of Police in their small little town. He hung his hat on the coat rack and strolled into the kitchen, where Kaylee stood, leaning against the counter.
At the sight of her father, Kaylee rushed forward. “Dad!”
“What is it, Honey?” he asked, serious at the sight of her distraught expression.
Kaylee took the opportunity and launched into a quick explanation, stumbling over her words.
“It’s Will; we were supposed to go to the movies yesterday, but he didn’t show, and just now we were supposed to meet Dan and Penny at Penny’s and we were going to go to the beach, but wasn’t there and I called him again and again and left messages and texts and he hasn’t called back and he always calls; I think something’s wrong, Dad.”
She sucked in air, out of breath from her long, winding summary.
Chief Miller’s face relaxed and he almost smiled, much to Kaylee’s frustration. He patted her shoulder.
“Look, Kay, I know you’re worried about Will, but he’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. He’s probably just at some wild party, passed out amidst hundreds of other drunken teenagers. You’ll see, any time now he’ll show up with nothing but a hangover.”
“But Dad,” Kaylee pressed. “He always calls. Always.”
“Honey, I’m sure he’s fine.”
“But, Dad--”
“Enough!” His eyebrows turned angrily downwards. “He’s fine. Stop worrying.”
His menacing stare sent shivers down Kaylee’s back; he had never approved of her and Will’s friendship, and was certainly not going to go to any length to track him down, police chief or not.
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she rushed out the door, desperate to find Will. She tried to rally his friends, neighbors, even his family, but all responded with the same answer:
“He’s probably stoned or wasted, and will come home in a day or two. It’s won’t be the first time that’s happened.”
To which Kaylee would respond, “But he always calls. Always.”
No one cared.
…
It was dark, everywhere. I knew I was moving, because every time we braked I was slammed against the wall of the trunk. Bound hand and foot, I was helpless, not even able to scream for help, courtesy of a gag tied over my mouth.
I could feel a thick rope cut into my wrists. My back and neck hurt after the countless hours trapped in the car trunk. My lips were chapped from the coarse cloth rubbing against them and my mouth was dry from not having drunk anything since the cloth was knotted in place. My breathing was heavy, and my mind was fogged, unable to form a coherent sentence.
My mind barely registered the car stopping and the footsteps that followed. Vaguely, they grew louder and louder, until the trunk opened and blinding light filtered in. A face appeared, slightly blurry, from above. My vision focused, and I could see the smile it hosted was malicious, maniacal.
Panic settled in me. I fought as well as I could while strong hands dragged me from the trunk into the unknown.
…
“It was so real,” I told Kaylee as she sipped her milkshake. “It was like I could actually feel it happen.”
She swallowed two fries. “Back up, Will. What happened in your dream?”
“Well,” I said, pausing to think, making sure I had it all in order. “I’d gone missing; I’d stood you up for a movie and when we were going to go to the beach I didn‘t show and hadn’t called. You were really scared. You tried telling your dad, but he brushed it off. Then you tried telling everyone else, but you were the only one that cared.”
I looked at Kaylee, making sure she was still with me; she nodded, taking some more fries.
“Then sort of the scene changed, and suddenly I was in a trunk. Some guys had grabbed me and kidnapped me, and I had been in there for hours.” I leaned forward ever so slightly. “It was so real. I could almost feel the pain where I had hit my head. And I was all alone, and somehow I knew that no one was going to come save me. It was really…”
I searched for the right word.
“Freaky,” Kaylee finished for me.
I nodded. “Freaky, right.”
“What happened next?” she asked, prodding me on.
“Well, the guy that kidnapped me came and dragged me out of the car and then I woke up.” I caught Kaylee’s attentive gaze. “And, y’know, that got me thinking, I don’t want it to be like that.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, in all seriousness. That was the thing about Kaylee; when I told her stuff like that she didn’t just laugh like most people would. She genuinely cared and wanted to hear about it.
“I don’t want to be the kind of person that dads won’t let their daughters date. I want to be the kind of person that when there’s even a remote possibility that they’re missing, people start searching for them. I mean, if I died, would anyone but you even cry? Would anyone miss me, or would they think it a good riddance?”
I looked expectantly at Kaylee as she took a bite of her burger and chewed it slowly, trying to process what I had said. Finally, she swallowed.
“So what are you going to do about it?” she asked gradually, deliberately.
I looked at her sheepishly. “Actually, I was kind of hoping that you could help me with that. You’re so good at being… good. Maybe you could teach me?”
Kaylee looked slightly incredulous. “Will, you do realize that there’s no five easy steps to fix your life, right? You’re not going to turn into Mother Teresa over night.”
“I know,” I said, restraining my defensive nature. “I know I’m not perfect, and I never will be, but you aren’t either. I’m not trying to be perfect; I just… don’t want people to only remember the hurt I’ve caused them.” I looked meaningfully at Kaylee. “Including the hurt I’ve caused you.”
She withdrew a little. “Will, stop. It’s behind us--”
“Exactly,” I said. “It’s behind us.” I took a deep breath. “This is going to sound really lame, but can you do something for me?”
“Anything.” Kaylee looked at me earnestly.
“Just… when I go, can you forget all the wrong I’ve done, all the hurt I’ve caused? Can you help me leave reasons to be missed? Please don’t be mad or resent me. And when you’re sad, remember me, and remember all the good times we’ve had. Leave out all the rest. Can you do that?”
“Of course.”
“Promise?” I looked at her expectantly, almost pleadingly.
Tears were collecting in Kaylee’s eyes. She put her hands on top of mine.
“William Fossum, I promise. I promise to leave out all the rest.”
(I love your icon, by the way.)
