Rebecca MacFife
Missing

I'm sorry to come here, Officer, but I don't know what else to do! I, I, I... I've lost my appetite. I've searched ice cream parlors and Chuck-E Cheese, I put up signs around the neighborhood, I tried to contact the people at Darigold-apparently milk cartons don't work like that anymore-and I've retraced my steps all day, but to no avail. I'm at my wit's end, Officer! Help me find her, please, I need her back; I'll die if I don't get her back!

Okay, breathe? Yes, I can do that. No, I don't know how long exactly. Tuesday, maybe? I last remember seeing her in a crowd, down at the subway station. I was waiting for the E train, having a wonderful conversation with this blonde lawyer. She kept tugging on my sleeve, wanting to hold my hand, and I just batted her away. I don't even remember when she stopped pestering me.

To be honest, it wasn't bad, having her gone for a while. Not having to feed her all the time, deal with her constant bickering and wailing, waking up in the middle of the night just because she wanted a grilled cheese sandwich... I only noticed she was gone when I got this wretched feeling of dread in my gut, kind of like my stomach was eating itself. And then I saw a mushroom swiss hamburger last night, in a window of a restaurant on 3rd, and I realized she was gone. We've shared so many mushroom swiss hamburgers together, celebrated so many birthdays with a trip to The Blue Bird Grill... I saw it, on a plate with house- cut fries and cole slaw, and I felt nothing. It could have been cardboard. That's when I knew. Good Lord, I need her back.

Yeah, you should judge me; I admit to being a terrible omnivore. I admit to batting her hand away when she pulled on my sleeve, to ignoring her pleas and wails for hours on end. I admit to forcing her to eat green peas and tofu when she didn't want them. I even admit to drugging her once or twice with those, you know, diet pills? That's bad, I know; I just thought it would help her stay quiet and... happy. I've ruined her. She's going to hate me, blame me for all her problems, need expensive therapy... But this isn't about me, it's about her. I'll treat her better, I swear, please just find her! It's been days, she must be so cold, so scared... so hungry. She must be starving. If you find her, please give her something to eat. A mushroom swiss burger, maybe. She likes those.