I watch myself in the mirror. Witnessing my reflection following my every movement as I continue with my morning routine. It fascinates me. Then again, I am also very easily entertained. Being a grown adult, it gets easier and easier to be entertained due to the boredom that society has to offer for you. When you have kids, you find yourself languishing to go back in time and do some things over. Be the happy joy of life, learning about the world around them- just to be disappointed in the end.

Children seem to be the color in a black, white, and grey painting. They warm your hearts with their adorableness.

Speaking of kids, my three year old son and my five year old daughter thump up the stairs with an abundance of noise. Together, their playful noises ring throughout our decently sized home. It always brings a smile to my face. Draining the grey dullness I feel deep inside. The door opens slowly, they peek inside. They giggle when they have me in their line of sight. I pretend like I don’t notice them, even though they can be seen in the mirror.

I turn to see their smiling faces, but find nothing. The smile that once was on my face turned into a disappointed frown. I sighed, leaving the bathroom. Walking down the hall, I open the door to my daughter’s room. The yellow paint on the walls with pink and purple flowers littered along the border. The room seemed like a time capsule. Everything untouched. A brown teddy bear with a gold ribbon around the neck lays on the bed.

She looks up from her toys. “Daddy?”

I look down at her, teary eyed and a half smile. I get down on my knees and reach out for her. She disappears in the touch of my embrace. It’s hard to bear. I sit down on the floor, with the toys around me. I look up to see my wife in the doorframe. She comes to join me on the floor. She holds me close. I can’t help it. My eyes tear up and I cry in silence.

    “I know it hurts. It hurts me too,” she whispers to me. I can hear the tremble in her voice. “Let’s go eat something before we go,” She tries to pull me up onto my feet.

    I follow, getting up onto my feet. I hold her hand in mine. She leads me down to the kitchen and to a seat at the table of four. Together we ate breakfast, and I tried to read the paper. That is until I saw the article. “Disappearance of brother and sister.” My wife gets up from her seat, and walks up to me. She fixes my tie, giving me a half smile. Today we have to talk to the press.