"Lost": the story of a girl who almost went insane due to the disappearance of her lover

This is a mysterious and chilling story about Hannah Monroe. She is beautiful, successful, but most importantly, she is loved. However, in an instant, Hannah's life turns upside down: her young man Matt suddenly disappears and erases all traces of his existence. Why did he do this? Hannah decides to find Matt by all means, which soon begins to drive her crazy.

Surveillance

I was driving home when a new message arrived on my cell phone. At that moment, I got stuck in a traffic jam in a tunnel on Kingsway, stopping at a bend in the far right lane at the very bank of the river. Turning on the radio, I heard on the news about the accident in the tunnel and the promise that the congestion would soon dissipate. There was no alternative route. Two heavy streams of cars clogged both lanes near the entrance to the tunnel. The drivers were nervous.

The message came from the next phone number, which I did not know: "But I can see you!"

I dropped my phone on the passenger seat and quickly looked around. Hundreds of cars stood in traffic around me. They occupied two lanes in the direction of Wallace, as well as two opposite lanes. The transport practically did not move. Everywhere I saw trucks and cars, none of which I had met before. Raising myself a little in its place, I tried to make out who was standing in front of the truck, located directly in front of me, but the body was too wide for this. Then I looked in the rearview mirror, but a car filled with passengers pulled up behind me. There was a bus in the next lane.

I could not calm down in any way. Where the hell could he be? I looked in the side mirror so as not to hit the accidental motorcyclist, and then opened the door and jumped out. I carefully looked at all the cars, but did not notice the acquaintances. He probably changed his car, as did his phone number.

How could I find him if he was driving an unfamiliar car?

There was a loud horn sound that made me flinch, and a woman in the car behind me was shouting something through the lowered glass. I realized that the stream ahead had finally begun to slowly move forward. I had to get back into my car and drive off. By some miracle, I escaped the accident. I paid for the passage through the tunnel with a special card and headed towards Wallace. My nerves could no longer withstand the strain. I constantly looked back in an effort to spot a familiar car.

One more reminder

Once at home, I barely had time to open the door when I froze in the middle of the hall. What is this? The smell of Polo men's eau de toilette hit me in the nose. Ralph Lauren. My present for Matt for Christmas last year.

I slowly backed up to the front door and stood with my back against it. The scent is now less noticeable. I kicked off my shoes and took a few steps forward on the carpeted floor in the center of the hall, with a parquet floor composed of polished oak planks. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. No, the smell hasn't gone anywhere - the chilly citrus scent of Matt's perfume.

- Matt! - I shouted hysterically. - Matt, are you there?

She rushed into the kitchen and quickly looked around her. I almost expected to see him sitting at a table, drinking tea and playing one of the most primitive games in a mobile phone program.

- Matt! Matt!

With the speed of a hound, I burst into the living room. Matt wasn't there. The room looked the same as I had left it in the morning. I flew up the stairs, swinging the doors open and shouting his name incessantly, throwing myself to the floor to peer under the beds, opening the wardrobes in case he lurked somewhere among my clothes. But I never saw Matt. Then she stood on the landing, trying to catch her breath. My head was spinning. I knew that he had been here. I knew that for sure.

Taking a deep breath again, realized that the smell was weaker upstairs, but returned to her bedroom. Here, too, there was the same scent. Bathroom. No trace. The guest room and shared bathroom did not smell of eau de toilette at all.

I had to go downstairs, trying to determine which parts of the house Matt went to. Everything in the living room remained the same, but there was a citrus aroma that was not there in the morning. In the kitchen, he felt the strongest, I understood, firmly believed that Matt had been standing for some time in the same place where I am now, carefully examining the room. My gaze wandered from subject to subject. What could he do here?

And then it suddenly dawned on me. Before leaving for work in the morning, I stacked my sticky notes in one pile next to the refrigerator, fearing an unexpected visit from Katie. I don't want to show her my notes. And now they were again neatly arranged in a grid, as I liked to arrange them myself, at carefully observed intervals.

You could draw a line along the edges, it would be perfectly straight. I am by nature precise in everything.

If Matt saw these tapes, he couldn't help but realize how much he meant to me. He had to pay attention to my list, to the fact that I crossed out the gym, hotels, office, car rental companies. Matt was obliged to appreciate my diligence, the desire not to lose sight of anything, noticing that I was looking for the addresses of his mother, hairdresser, workshop where the car was serviced. He saw the numbers and explanations I wrote down. And now I knew for sure that his departure was driving me crazy.

Did he do this trick? I wonder what Matt was thinking as he stood here looking at my notes? Did he feel guilty? Or was he happy with what he saw?

For a moment, I admitted it might not have been him, but then I shook my head. I caught his familiar scent. And if before I had to guess, now I had proof at my disposal. Suddenly I remembered something. If a villain commits a crime, he will certainly leave something there, and take something with him. This was the truth, valid for all crimes. And now I was dealing with a clear offense - illegal intrusion into my home, penetration into my personal life.

Of course, the police usually looked for DNA samples left behind by criminals in the form of skin particles, a drop of blood or sweat. I didn’t have their capabilities, but I could do something too. Matt left behind his scent, a long lasting citrus scent. But what did he take with him? I looked around the room again. He was here, he spread my notes anew - there was no doubt about it. I counted the sheets. All were in place. And at first glance, nothing was lost. I went into the living room, went up to the bedroom, but there, too, no loss was evident.

Since there was no scent in the guest room, I decided that he did not look in there.

And as soon as I looked around the kitchen again, I realized that it had disappeared. The note with only the word "Satisfied?" And the envelope were no longer attached to the refrigerator door. They weren't there at all. There was only a magnet in the shape of a question mark. I felt really bad, and this time I was, more than ever, close to fainting. But she managed to grab the back of the chair and sit down. The note was my only piece of evidence. She proved that I hadn’t gone crazy yet