Current River Writers - Prompt for September 2023

“Coming up. Van retrieved from a Washington lake. Potential connection to Arkansan. Details at 10.”

Tori’s heart raced. Nausea swooped in. She made it to her tiny bathroom just in time.

The trip Tori took 20 years ago - at barely 18 years of age - with six dorm mates she barely knew - haunted her, but the last five years she had managed to lead what she considered a normal life. Her ‘dream job’ popped up after completing her online degree. Graphic designing funded her ideally located park-side apartment in walking distance to the marketing firm’s prime downtown location. Her art was on exhibit. She was contemplating going out with neighbor Mark.

With a steamy mug of coffee, Tori sank into her recliner in view of the television. She would journal to curtail the panic until the news at 10.

But the news arrived earlier. At the doorbell’s 8:15 chime, she opened the door to an investigator who presented a waterproof cigarette case. It was an impulse purchase made on the trip to safeguard her ID and a phone card. Authorities had found it in the van’s glove box.

She relived the hell she endured when the six abandoned her, leaving to get ahead of a major early blizzard. After expressing her opinion and stationing her duffle bag at the door, she dozed by the fire while the others debated. She awoke to a smoldering fire - no rowdy laughter, no luggage. The only evidence of their intended stay - a pile of groceries atop the table - helped her survive until discovered eight days later by the cabin’s next tenants.

At the investigator’s insistence, she opened the case to see the contents he had already examined. “Missed you - turned around. Weather getting nasty. We’ll tough it out there.”

She had not been abandoned.

(Prompt: The morning after a blizzard you make your way outside and slowly start to realize everyone has disappeared.)