‘Missing!’: a word that haunted the dining table, staring out from the side of the milk carton above a new child’s face every day; this time it was an eleven-year-old girl called Maria Summers. Maria smiled at Vivian as she tucked into her cornflakes. The ‘Milk Carton Kids’, as most people called them were more often than not, never seen again.
The more Vivian looked at Maria, the harder it became to swallow. How could so many children go missing? Where could they all possibly go? Shouldn’t some trace of evidence show up? Vivian suddenly felt like she was going to throw up, everything started spinning. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor. That was when her mother came in.
Vivian wasn’t allowed to go to school that day; how could she after fainting? Yet Vivian couldn’t help but notice how easily her mother had come to that conclusion, especially with her exams just around the corner. Ever since the Milk Carton Kids had started appearing, her parents took any excuse they could to keep her in the house. Paranoia, she suspected. Vivian decided to go back upstairs and try to sleep the day off.
Sometime later, Vivian was awakened by the landline ringing. Assuming her mother would get it, she got up and opened the curtains; it was dark. She hadn’t thought she’d been asleep that long but she must have slept through the whole day. Her mother was probably away on night shift; not uncommon for a paramedic.
The telephone continued to ring, with an insistence that became harder to ignore; every-time it rung out it started again so, eventually, Vivian crept out into the hallway and picked up the phone. Initially, all she could hear was static, like when the radio hadn’t quite picked up a signal, yet every so often a voice could be heard, completely broken up,
‘Save… Go outside… moon… lake…-’
Somewhat perturbed, she hung up the phone and the ringing stopped, she went back to her room, deciding it would be better if she got back to sleep. Not that she was particularly tired, but it would certainly make morning arrive a bit faster.
Some time later, she awoke again. The moon shone into the window of her bedroom like a searchlight, the flickering of the stars felt like they were trying to tell her something, trying to bring her outside. It wouldn’t be the first time she had climbed out of a second-storey window. Thanks to the practice she got from sneaking out to parties, she quickly found herself on the grass outside. She immediately felt the cool chill of the night. She stood there for a moment, taking it all in. It was then that something caught her attention, movement out the corner of her eye. As she turned to see what it was she noticed a strange glow coming from within the forest by her house. It was a warm glow, intriguing Vivian even more. She knew it would be a bad idea to go into the forest alone, especially, at night, but it was then that curiosity truly got the better of her. Still in her pyjamas, she entered the trees. The closer she got to it, the further away the light seemed to be, drawing her further and further inside. Gradually, the static sound behind the voice when she picked up the phone started playing in her ears getting louder the further she walked.
Vivian knew it would be a better turn around, go home and lock the window behind her. She wondered if it would be at this point when any sane person would leave. If she had been someone else, would she have even left her room in the first place? But something about the light prevented her; maybe it was just the overwhelming sense of curiosity, but Vivian physically couldn’t turn around.
Her feet made their way deeper and deeper into the trees. The voice was becoming clearer too.
‘Save… go outside… moon reflected… lake… too late…’
And soon, just like the voice had suggested she must, she found a lake. It spread wide across the forest floor. Framed by trees with long winding branches, the water shimmered, it almost seemed to glow. And right in the middle of it all was the moon, perfectly round, reflecting back from the sky. The trees beckoned Vivian forward, and a cold breeze caressed the back of her neck.
The voice was now unbroken.
“Save yourself. Don’t go outside. When you see the moon reflected on the lake, it’s already too late.”
Vivian listened to the words but she couldn’t stop herself. She tried to turn around, she tried to run. But her feet wouldn’t let her. She was stuck, with no way to go home. She took a step forward, or at least her feet did. She couldn’t control what they did. As she approached the water’s edge, she felt herself crouch down. Her arm reached towards the water. Unable to control anything else, she watched as the water rippled at her touch. It was beautiful. The water sparkled with the stars.
Vivian looked at the face staring back at her: she knew it was her own, yet something looked odd, like it didn’t really belong to her. Her eyes looked glazed over, her previously olive tan, turning hues of grey. Her hair danced around her face like there was a strong wind, despite there only being a gentle breeze.
The reflection of her face came towards her, closer, and closer, until she felt the sharp cold take her breath away. Her face was underwater. Suddenly, she fell out of her trance. Panicking, she tried to pull away. If she ran all the way back to her house soon, she could dry off and be in bed by when her mother got back from work.
As her head resurfaced, she felt cold hands reach around the back of her neck, pulling her back under. Soon her entire body was under water. The more she struggled, the tighter the grip. She couldn’t hold her breath much longer.
Instinctively she breathed in. Water rushed in through her nose and down her throat. It burned as it went down. She tried to cough but it just led more water to entered her lungs. Her chest was tight and the hands were still around her neck, stopping her from resurfacing. She felt like she was sinking further, all hope she had of getting home seemingly more and more unlikely. Vivian felt herself slowly fade away.
* * *
Lola wasn’t one for milk, much preferring toast in the mornings to cereal. Her brother, on the other hand, loved it; that’s why she was sitting face to face with the carton on the table. Bored, she read the label. “Missing: Vivian Lang, 16, last seen at her home in Iowa 20th May 1989”.
It was only a few days ago: a girl of the same age as herself. Just thinking about it left a hollow feeling in her chest. She looked at the food in front of her. She didn’t much feel like eating, in fact, the more she thought about it, the more she felt like she was going to throw up. She looked up, but immediately regretted it as everything started to spin. Suddenly, she was on the floor. She didn’t remember falling.
After mentioning it to her father, he suggested she didn’t go to school. Lola noted how easily he had come to that decision; normally she’d be made to go to school anyway. Perhaps it had something to do with the milk carton; maybe her father had also spotted the same strange resemblances she had between herself and ‘Vivian’. Lola decided to go to bed. It would be the easiest way to pass the time. It hadn’t felt like she’d been sleeping for very long when she began to stir to the sound of a loud noise coming from the hall. She tried to get back to sleep, but it’s hard to fall asleep with the insistent scream of the phone ringing over, and over again.