Some time ago I found out that Claire, the girl I was dating, wrote a book, about a youth adventure, it was fantasy. If I remember correctly, it was about some young people who entered a cave, and they met some dwarfs, they had wooden masks, spears, and a strange dialect. Inside that cave, there was a big forest, everywhere and somehow, it was all illuminated. The story reached a point where everything seemed very strange to me.
I'll try to put them in context.
When I got back from work, there were a lot of policemen hanging around the neighborhoods, despite their imposing presence, everything seemed to flow naturally.
The next morning, my father picked up the newspaper from the door and the main news, he told me while we had breakfast; some young people disappeared minutes before they left the school.
That night I found out about the book Claire wrote, and so I read it. Two days later, one of the missing children was found. He was alone in the forest, his hands were covered in blood and he was crying. So he told the officers what happened.
Nobody believed.
Nobody found anything.
I was calling Claire to tell me where she got the imagination for that story. At least I found a lot of similarity between his story and the news.
I don't want to overthink and I don't want to jump to conclusions either.
But who could question the innocence of a child.