Post by Sidney Prescott on Feb 15, 2021 3:38:34 GMT -6
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
A clatter.
"Hello?"
"Is this the home of Mr. Prescott?"
"Uh-yes. Who is this?"
"This is the dean of Windsor College, I'm calling concerning Sidney."
"Oh, my baby girl! How is she doing, is she settling in alright?" The sense of dread settled in Neil Prescott's bones. "Did something happen to my girl?"
"I'm... sorry, Mr. Prescott, Sidney isn't here. I was calling to see if she stayed home." The silence after that sentence chilled Neil's bones. He took a deep, shuddering breath.
"What do you mean she isn't there? I just saw her off not even two days ago, she's driving herself there. My Sidney would never skip school, this was so important to her. She has to be there. Sidney has to be there."
"Mr. Prescott, I assure you, I'm just as confused as you are. Have you called Sidney recently?"
A single tear rolled down Neil's face and he wiped it away quickly, fear rolling through his skin and making his hair stand on end.
"No," he finally got out. "I-I haven't called her. She told me she would call when she got there safe. I-I'll try to give her a ring now, thank you. I'll find my Sidney. I'm sure she's close."
He hung up the phone without another word, taking another deep, shuddering breath. Then, he picked up, and dialed the number he knew by heart, his breath stilling as he waited for the ring.
.
.
Dial tone.
"--As the manhunt for Sidney Prescott continues, this is Gale Weathers, your first news source."
Neil had Sidney's face put up over missing posters all over town. He had the police give every officer the most recent picture of her, he even went as far as to try to contact the White House, for surely there was the agency of information that would have her face, and armed with it, find her. He begged every store to keep the posters with her face and information up as long as possible, the entire town of Woodsboro, California, given as much information as possible to find his little girl.
Neil was pawing through a scrapbook, his fingers trailing every picture of Sidney with love. Every picture of Sidney, of his wife, of all of them together, he kept copies of under his pillow. He had to stop himself from practically plastering the house with them, his love and longing for his family taking over his being. He just knew they would find Sidney, she never played pranks and she never went anywhere without telling someone where she was going. His Sidney was careful like that, she laid trails everywhere she went after that dreadful, awful party happened. Sidney kept herself safe, her smart, smart brain knowing every trick in the book, and how to make sure she could be found. His Sidney was careful like that.
Ghostface really left a mark on this town, and on Neil's family. Sidney kept a knife with her everywhere after her gun was confiscated, making sure she was never defenseless. Neil taught his Sidney to be careful like that, especially after her mother died. Sidney was Neil's pride and joy in this world, and he knew she would be found. He knew it in his heart. He knew that Sidney would come back home to him.
Sidney would never leave like this. Never.
Sidney's face was still plastered all over the news, and on every poster in town, Neil constantly fielding calls with hope that someone had a thread on where Sidney had gone. He called her number at least once an hour at first, then once a day, hoping, hoping, hoping with his entire being that Sidney would pick up and reassure him everything was fine, she reached school safe, and she's so sorry for making him so worried, and she's so sorry for taking so long.
Neil was terrified more than anything that that Ghostface guy was around, that he was back, that he killed his Sidney like he killed that other girl, Casey, and his wife. That Neil would have any kind of definite answer as to what happened to his baby girl, that his baby girl had been found--.
No. He couldn't even think the word.
His baby girl, who had been through so much and kept a smile on her face. His baby girl, who had been through so much and still got into school, still looked to the future, and still kept his family alive and well.
The phone on the wall rang, and Neil jumped out of his seat and picked it up immediately, heart soaring that Sidney was finally calling him to tell him--
"Hey, Neil," Dewey's voice came, and Neil's everything came crashing down. Every time, his soul ached that much more, and the center of his chest, the spot where he held all that love for his Sidney, felt like a gaping hole.
"Hi, Dewey," Neil replied, his voice breaking. "Have you heard anything about Sid? Please, someone must have heard something."
"N-" Dewey took a solid, deep breath, heart heavy. "Neil, it's been two weeks. I... I don't think we're gonna find her, Neil, dead or alive. We've put her face on everything-"
"No!" Neil's heart, what was left of it, it tore. "Dewey, no, no, no, we have to find her. She wouldn't go missin' like this, she wouldn't just drop off the face of the Earth-"
Dewey's voice sounded like a mockery of understanding. "I know, Neil. I know."
"You don't!" Neil screamed, tears freely flowing down his face. "Dewey, you've never had a kid, you've never loved a child like this, you've never lost someone like this! We got everyone involved! We look everywhere, Dewey, everywhere! We! Find! Sidney!"
"There's other missin' people, Neil," Dewey said, voice calm. "We have to look for them too. This breaks my heart just as much as yours, but people who don't want to be found, won't be found."
Neil sobbed into the phone, openly, sitting propped against the wall on the floor. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. All he could say, over and over, broken, was his baby girl's name. Even after Dewey hung up, hours and hours ago by now, Neil clutched the phone and his chest with great, heaving sobs. His eyes no longer had tears, his face swollen and red with snot dripping down his chest. His voice had no normal sound to it anymore; it was hoarse, ruined, and strained. His airway wheezed with stridor, almost as if his throat itself was giving up with how raw it was. If only he had been more careful. If only he ignored all Sidney's reassurance that she was safe and okay, and driven her there instead, rented a room in a hotel like he had offered, and kept his baby girl safe.
This was, he knew, his fault. He knew this with everything in his person. His baby girl missing, that was his fault. He wasn't careful enough. His wife was screwing around, that was his fault. He didn't love her enough. All of this, where he was, was resoundingly his fault. Finally, Neil dropped the phone, letting his slumped body fall to the side as he continued to clutch his chest. The world around him stilled, stopped, and all color drained. His world was nothing but black and white and shades of grey, his eyes failing to see the color around him.
Neil Prescott would never, ever forgive himself.
Sidney's case was never closed, but Sidney herself was never seen again.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
A clatter.
"Hello?"
"Is this the home of Mr. Prescott?"
"Uh-yes. Who is this?"
"This is the dean of Windsor College, I'm calling concerning Sidney."
"Oh, my baby girl! How is she doing, is she settling in alright?" The sense of dread settled in Neil Prescott's bones. "Did something happen to my girl?"
"I'm... sorry, Mr. Prescott, Sidney isn't here. I was calling to see if she stayed home." The silence after that sentence chilled Neil's bones. He took a deep, shuddering breath.
"What do you mean she isn't there? I just saw her off not even two days ago, she's driving herself there. My Sidney would never skip school, this was so important to her. She has to be there. Sidney has to be there."
"Mr. Prescott, I assure you, I'm just as confused as you are. Have you called Sidney recently?"
A single tear rolled down Neil's face and he wiped it away quickly, fear rolling through his skin and making his hair stand on end.
"No," he finally got out. "I-I haven't called her. She told me she would call when she got there safe. I-I'll try to give her a ring now, thank you. I'll find my Sidney. I'm sure she's close."
He hung up the phone without another word, taking another deep, shuddering breath. Then, he picked up, and dialed the number he knew by heart, his breath stilling as he waited for the ring.
.
.
Dial tone.
"--As the manhunt for Sidney Prescott continues, this is Gale Weathers, your first news source."
Neil had Sidney's face put up over missing posters all over town. He had the police give every officer the most recent picture of her, he even went as far as to try to contact the White House, for surely there was the agency of information that would have her face, and armed with it, find her. He begged every store to keep the posters with her face and information up as long as possible, the entire town of Woodsboro, California, given as much information as possible to find his little girl.
Neil was pawing through a scrapbook, his fingers trailing every picture of Sidney with love. Every picture of Sidney, of his wife, of all of them together, he kept copies of under his pillow. He had to stop himself from practically plastering the house with them, his love and longing for his family taking over his being. He just knew they would find Sidney, she never played pranks and she never went anywhere without telling someone where she was going. His Sidney was careful like that, she laid trails everywhere she went after that dreadful, awful party happened. Sidney kept herself safe, her smart, smart brain knowing every trick in the book, and how to make sure she could be found. His Sidney was careful like that.
Ghostface really left a mark on this town, and on Neil's family. Sidney kept a knife with her everywhere after her gun was confiscated, making sure she was never defenseless. Neil taught his Sidney to be careful like that, especially after her mother died. Sidney was Neil's pride and joy in this world, and he knew she would be found. He knew it in his heart. He knew that Sidney would come back home to him.
Sidney would never leave like this. Never.
Sidney's face was still plastered all over the news, and on every poster in town, Neil constantly fielding calls with hope that someone had a thread on where Sidney had gone. He called her number at least once an hour at first, then once a day, hoping, hoping, hoping with his entire being that Sidney would pick up and reassure him everything was fine, she reached school safe, and she's so sorry for making him so worried, and she's so sorry for taking so long.
Neil was terrified more than anything that that Ghostface guy was around, that he was back, that he killed his Sidney like he killed that other girl, Casey, and his wife. That Neil would have any kind of definite answer as to what happened to his baby girl, that his baby girl had been found--.
No. He couldn't even think the word.
His baby girl, who had been through so much and kept a smile on her face. His baby girl, who had been through so much and still got into school, still looked to the future, and still kept his family alive and well.
The phone on the wall rang, and Neil jumped out of his seat and picked it up immediately, heart soaring that Sidney was finally calling him to tell him--
"Hey, Neil," Dewey's voice came, and Neil's everything came crashing down. Every time, his soul ached that much more, and the center of his chest, the spot where he held all that love for his Sidney, felt like a gaping hole.
"Hi, Dewey," Neil replied, his voice breaking. "Have you heard anything about Sid? Please, someone must have heard something."
"N-" Dewey took a solid, deep breath, heart heavy. "Neil, it's been two weeks. I... I don't think we're gonna find her, Neil, dead or alive. We've put her face on everything-"
"No!" Neil's heart, what was left of it, it tore. "Dewey, no, no, no, we have to find her. She wouldn't go missin' like this, she wouldn't just drop off the face of the Earth-"
Dewey's voice sounded like a mockery of understanding. "I know, Neil. I know."
"You don't!" Neil screamed, tears freely flowing down his face. "Dewey, you've never had a kid, you've never loved a child like this, you've never lost someone like this! We got everyone involved! We look everywhere, Dewey, everywhere! We! Find! Sidney!"
"There's other missin' people, Neil," Dewey said, voice calm. "We have to look for them too. This breaks my heart just as much as yours, but people who don't want to be found, won't be found."
Neil sobbed into the phone, openly, sitting propped against the wall on the floor. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. All he could say, over and over, broken, was his baby girl's name. Even after Dewey hung up, hours and hours ago by now, Neil clutched the phone and his chest with great, heaving sobs. His eyes no longer had tears, his face swollen and red with snot dripping down his chest. His voice had no normal sound to it anymore; it was hoarse, ruined, and strained. His airway wheezed with stridor, almost as if his throat itself was giving up with how raw it was. If only he had been more careful. If only he ignored all Sidney's reassurance that she was safe and okay, and driven her there instead, rented a room in a hotel like he had offered, and kept his baby girl safe.
This was, he knew, his fault. He knew this with everything in his person. His baby girl missing, that was his fault. He wasn't careful enough. His wife was screwing around, that was his fault. He didn't love her enough. All of this, where he was, was resoundingly his fault. Finally, Neil dropped the phone, letting his slumped body fall to the side as he continued to clutch his chest. The world around him stilled, stopped, and all color drained. His world was nothing but black and white and shades of grey, his eyes failing to see the color around him.
Neil Prescott would never, ever forgive himself.
Sidney's case was never closed, but Sidney herself was never seen again.