Two things I have transpired since I last posted:
George is missing.
I found Julia’s collar.
I woke up around 6am this morning. I can usually smell coffee brewing when I wake up,signifying that George is awake. This morning however, I didn’t smell coffee. The house was silent. I’m still not used to Julia not being here. Not hearing the jingle of her collar, her sneezes and her paws clicking around.
I climbed out of bed and made my way to the guest room. Per usual, I reached my hand out to feel the door, but it was wide open. I called for George.
“George? George!” I yelled throughout my house. I was only met with silence.
My heart was racing as I felt around the guest room floor to see if he was on the ground. As I was on my hands and knees scanning the rug, I grabbed something that froze me in my tracks. I noticed immediately by the sound, texture and tags that I was holding Julia’s collar.
All the air escaped my lungs. I felt like whatever had been in my house was laughing at me. I called the police and they came over to search the rest of the house for George or any other evidence. They found no signs of George, except for his car still sitting in the driveway and his keys still placed on the kitchen counter.
As for Julia’s collar, I kept it a secret. I know a lot of people would fail to understand this decision, but I did it for my own sanity. I’ve lost Julia, and the only thing I have left of her is her collar, although, how it ended up in the guest room is beyond me. I didn’t want the police taking it for evidence. I knew they wouldn’t find anything. The collar is a metal chain, and I know there are no fingerprints that are worth anything.
Whatever has been terrorizing me can’t be human.
So before the police arrived, I put the collar in my top drawer next to my bed.
The police are now closely monitoring my house around the clock. They have been playing my security cameras back, and so far they have not seen any signs of anyone besides myself and George since they installed the cameras.
Officer Duke brought me to the station a few hours ago to go over the footage with me. The kitchen camera showed George coming in and turning a light on a little past midnight last night. Or at least, that’s what Officer Duke told me.
“He seems a little disoriented at 12:13am…” one of the officers explained to me, as I can’t see the footage myself. “He pours a glass of milk and sits at the kitchen table.”
The next part sends chills down my spine and a knot in my stomach.
“At 12:22 though, George perks up, as if he hears something. He sits straight and seems to be looking around the corner of the kitchen, towards the stairs. He gets up, walks towards the stairs, and out of the frame.”
These were the last known whereabouts of George.
The police tried to find the rest of the footage from that night, but had no luck. It was gone.
The worst part of all of this, is that I have no choice to believe what people tell me about what is on the security cameras. As I can’t see them for myself, I have to hope that the officers are telling me the truth and hope that my imagination stays in control.