JAMIESTORY: Chapter 4

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Chapter 4:

The Vanishing


I darted down the dimly lit street, the soft thud of my shoes against the pavement the only sound I could hear over the hammering of my heart. Jessica had veered off in the opposite direction, her figure disappearing into the growing shadows. My thoughts were a blur, caught somewhere between panic and disbelief. I didn’t dare look back.
As I rounded a corner, I collided with someone—a solid, familiar weight that nearly sent me tumbling.
“Watch it!” he snapped, steadying me. Then his eyes widened. “Jamie?”
Tony's face froze in disbelief as he stared at me. His expression twisted with confusion and alarm, his usual grin replaced by a gaping mouth. I wanted to vanish on the spot
“Jamie? Is that really you?” Tony whispered, leaning closer to me. His voice carried a strange mix of concern and fascination, and I couldn’t figure out whether he wanted to laugh or scream.
My cheeks burned hot, and I desperately clutched at the hem of the dress Jessica had convinced me to wear. “Um… yeah, it’s me,” I muttered, my voice high and soft. The squeakiness made my stomach churn. I sounded so wrong. So... girly.
Tony blinked, his eyes darting from my face to the dress and back. “Why are you dressed like that? And… wait.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did something happen to your face? You… you look like a—”
“A girl,” I interrupted, my voice trembling as I glanced around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. “It’s a long story, okay? And it’s not what you think!”
Tony frowned, crossing his arms. “Not what I think? Dude—uh, girl—you look completely different! This isn’t some prank, is it? Like, Jessica didn’t dress you up for a dare or something?”
“No!” I hissed. “It’s… complicated. I—I woke up like this, okay? I think it’s some kind of weird magic or something. It’s not my fault!” My voice cracked as I spoke, and I hated how pitiful I sounded.
Tony stared at me like I’d sprouted a second head. “Magic? Jamie, are you messing with me? Because this… this is seriously insane.”
“Do you think I want this?” I snapped, my voice breaking again. “Do you think I wanted to wake up with long hair, and now have wear dress, and—and this stupid voice?” My eyes stung with tears, but I forced them back. Boys don’t cry, I reminded myself, even if I wasn’t exactly a boy anymore.
Tony scratched his head, his face a mixture of skepticism and sympathy. “Okay, okay. If it’s not a joke… then what are you gonna do? You can’t just stay like this, right?”
I shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know! I don’t even know how this happened, let alone how to fix it. All I know is that some stupid machine or box or whatever changed me, and now I’m stuck like this.” My voice wavered, and I looked down at my hands, suddenly noticing how delicate and slender they looked. Even my nails seemed different—smaller, smoother. “I just want to be me again.”
Tony sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, you’re still you… I think. I mean, you’re still Jamie, right? Just… Jamie with a makeover from, like, another dimension.”
“That doesn’t help,” I muttered, hugging myself.
Before Tony could respond, a loud screeching sound shattered the tense silence. A white van sped around the corner, its headlights cutting through the shadows like knives. My stomach dropped.
“Run,” I whispered, grabbing Tony’s arm.
“What?”
“RUN!” I shouted, already pulling him as the van skidded to a stop.
The doors flew open, and two men in dark clothing jumped out. I barely had time to scream before one of them grabbed me, his grip like iron around my wrist. Tony lunged toward me, but the other man shoved him back, sending him sprawling onto the pavement.
“Jamie!” Tony yelled, scrambling to his feet.
“Help!” I cried, kicking and thrashing, but it was no use. The man holding me pulled a cloth from his pocket, pressing it over my nose and mouth. A sickly sweet smell filled my senses, and everything went black.

~o~O~o~

When I woke up, my head throbbed like someone had taken a hammer to it. I blinked groggily, the world around me slowly coming into focus.
The room was small and windowless, the walls bare and unwelcoming. A single, flickering bulb hung from the ceiling, casting eerie shadows that danced across the cracked floor. My heart raced as I realized I was completely alone.
“Hello?” I called, my voice hoarse. “Is anyone there?”
No response.
I stumbled to my feet, my legs shaky beneath me. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the room. I hesitated, my instincts screaming at me to stay put, but curiosity and desperation won out.
I pushed the door open slowly, peering into the hallway beyond. It stretched on in both directions, dimly lit and eerily quiet. I crept forward, my bare feet making almost no sound against the cold concrete.
Suddenly, a voice echoed from somewhere nearby. “She’s awake. Check on her.”
Panic surged through me. I turned to run, but footsteps were already closing in. A man emerged from the shadows, his face partially obscured by the brim of a baseball cap.
“Hey! Stop right there!”
I bolted, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I sprinted down the hallway. Doors lined the walls, each one locked when I tried the handles. The man’s footsteps pounded behind me, growing louder with each passing second.
I turned a corner and found myself at a dead end. My chest heaved as I spun around, the man closing in with a menacing grin.
“Nowhere to run, little girl,” he sneered.
He grabbed me by the arm, dragging me back the way I’d come. My mind raced, frantically searching for a way out, a way to fight back, but my body felt weak and useless.
“Lewis,” the man called as we entered a larger room. Another man, taller and leaner, turned to face us.
“She tried to run,” my captor said.
Lewis frowned, his eyes cold and calculating as they raked over me. “I see. We’ll have to make sure she doesn’t try that again.”
My stomach churned as he stepped closer, his gaze lingering on me for a moment too long. “Remove her clothes and lock her up,” he said finally. “And make sure it’s secure this time.”
Totally naked, I was shoved into another room, this one even smaller than the last. The door slammed shut behind me, the lock clicking into place. I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down my face as I realized just how hopeless my situation had become.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard the faint hum of a television. A news anchor’s voice drifted through the walls, muffled but still audible.
“An Amber Alert has been issued for eight-year-old Jamie Jacobs, who was last seen near Main Street earlier this evening. Witnesses reported seeing a white van in the area…”
My breath caught in my throat. My photo—or at least, what I looked like now—flashed across the screen in my mind.
They think I’m an eight-year-old girl.
I stared at the locked door, the weight of my predicament sinking in. This wasn’t just about me anymore. Whatever had happened to me, whatever was happening now, was bigger than I could have ever imagined. And I had no idea how to stop it.

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