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The night I found Rebecca Fisher, I almost killed her.

She was standing in the middle of the road, arms hanging by her side, hair falling to her shoulders with a dirty white gown and damp, as if she had just stepped out of the shower and had thought it a good idea to take a midnight stroll down Ocean Hills Drive. As if she had somehow lost her way and had reverted to extreme measures just to get someone's attention and help.

As if she hadn't been missing for five years.

Five years… people believe nothing ever happens in Mador town because it's a small town with less population. And I used to believe that. A long time ago, being the Sheriff of this small town involved nothing more than handling disputes between neighbors and the occasional drunk drivers especially truck drivers usually Tommy Lee. A stubborn, addicted smoker who loves to waste his money on gambling. Every Sunday night, when he does lose at a game of cards. He will drive home to cause trouble.

Not that I was complaining. No, I loved small-town laws. No, I loved small-town law with no serious issue, but sometimes enough to cause a ruckus in the neighborhood. It was a routine. Wake up, drive through the narrow road into town, pick up a bagel and coffee, then end up at my desk. Paper work was probably the only thing that kept any of us awake, and also a routine for us, every three hours, letting the little over two thousand law-abiding citizens of Mador know that they are always safe.

Which they don't need it, because citizens of Mador were a God-fearing bunch and every Sunday morning, Pastor Chris would call, reminding me of Sunday service and how important my presence would help in the Church. But I never did go. I gave up on religion the day I lost my two kids, James and Jane to a plane crash, which resulted to my wife divorcing me. Every since then, I wasn't interested in finding God. Now, I had that beef with Him.

So every Sunday evening I spend it with Big Ross's place, talking about the country's football game, investment and trying my best not to call my ex-wife. As I am working on my drinking habits.

That Sunday night, I almost ran over Rebecca Fisher, standing in the middle of Ocean Hill Drive where no person in their right mind should be standing. I diverted my wheel from her and crashed the street light pole standing next to a tree, the pole got bent forward, damaging my windscreen, causing one of the tree branch to fall at the back of my truck.

Six years of her being missing and now she appears in the middle of the road. Six years ago, The Fishers family forwarded a missing report of their daughter, after some many search parties and announcements. All efforts to find her was fruitless. We held a funeral for he after five months of her missing when the Fishers has given up completely. I had watched Susan Fisher cried a river, holding her husband's arm as he starred at the empty space of the casket. Mador town had given up, but I didn't, I kept searching, using my connections to pull some string. And still, nothing.

She came back after six years, and I almost killed her. I woke up on the Clinic bed with bandages on my head and pains over my body.

"Ahh…" I groaned

"Cuts and bruises, Sheriff Barker." Doctor Emily looked up from the chart in her hands, gave me a quick smile, then went back to jotting things down. She's been responsible for Mador town medical center and her experience was it's top-notch, she managed the clinic like a city hospital. Am always fond of her.

"I feel like I shattered a collar bone." I said, wincing as I pulled my coat on. The Sheriff's emblem was switched on with a brownish shade that made its original yellow color almost obsolete. I felt it was a quaint reflection of the man wearing it.

"Hmm… X-rays are clean." Emily said "unless you want to make another crash for the night, if you haven't had enough excitement for one night. Knock yourself out."

"Alright. And the girl." I asked "Rebecca Fisher?"

"You need to stop calling her that, you been saying that name since you were brought in." She said. "You already got the paramedics spooked."

"C'mon Doc, that's Rebecca Fisher. You know that better than I do." I said.

"True, hell of a resemblance, Sure." Emily nodded, as I starred at her, "but we're running a DNA test and we'll see what come back. How long has she been missing?"

"Six years, too long." I said "I need to call her parents."

"You definitely don't do such. Do you think about other will say and the press bumping here. Uh!"

"That's Rebecca Fisher!" I almost yelled.

Emily looked around her before pulling the curtains closed around us. "Barker, that's a little girl. A very frightened, admittedly creepy little girl, who is in severe shock. She hasn't said a word since she came in, and all I could telling going over the scratches, bruises on her body and how you found her. She's probably escaping form something or someone. So do me a favor?

"Shut your mouth up for the meantime and go home. Wait for the DNA test results. In two day it will be ready and you will be the first I will call."

"Fine. Goodnight Doc." I said

In the morning, I drove to the station and walked into my office, as my colleagues were asking series of questions of how I got hurts. "What caused the accident last night?" "Was its a deer?" "No, it's a fox." They all asked.

"No, I was sleeping while driving." I replied them. Then Dennis approached me. "Sir, you have a call from Emily."

"A call?"

I was instantly alerted, didn't she say it would be two days? I took the phone from him.

"Hello! What's wrong?"

"I just received the DNA results. And…." She paused.

"And… What?" I asked with a hasty tone.

"She's Rebecca Fisher, but there's an issue here at the clinic."

"What's that?" I asked

She paused.

"I can not find Rebecca Fisher." She said, as her voice deepened.

_{The End.}