Jack Tait wants closure.

Jack Tait sits alone in his shitty apartment in shitty Etobicoke and looks out of his shitty window and sees the shitty buildings that surround him.  he is sixty years old and alone.  he has fucked over one hundred and fifty women in his life but has only loved two.  his wife and daughter.  he wishes that he had spent more time with them when he was younger.  he has no friends.  he is retired from his shitty job.  he drinks.  he eats.  he reads.  he sleeps.  he wishes things were different but they are not.  it is cold outside.  sunny.  but cold.
  Jack listens to Mumford and Sons, “ghosts that we knew.”  he cries.  he cries a lot.  he cries everyday.  he looks in the fridge for a beer and the telephone rings.  he contemplates answering it for it may be good news.  it never is.  twenty years ago his only daughter vanished from their shitty apartment lobby and has never been found.  she was ten.  Jack and his wife Jane searched for ten years for their beautiful daughter.  they fought.  they cried.  they hoped.  they searched some more.  they struggled.  they held each other tightly on many occassions and promised each other to never give up hope.  “WE WILL FIND NICOLE.  I GUARANTEE YOU THAT JANE.”  they also promised each other that “no matter what we will never leave each other.  never ever.”  Jane died.  cancer.  Jack watched as Jane went from one hundred and forty pounds to seventy eight pounds in just over six months.  he sat by her bedside at the hospital and would not leave.  visiting hours were from 9am until 9pm but Jack didn’t obey.  he always hated rules.  still does.  he lost one girl.  he wasn’t going to lose another.  Jack held onto Jane tightly.  he knew she was dying but he still held out hope for some sort of miracle.  he needed two but none came.  Jane died.  Jack cried.  fifty years old.  alone.
  Jack worked for the next ten years driving a dry cleaning van.  he constantly looked at elementary schools and high schools still thinking that maybe…just maybe…he would see Nicole again.  he had crank calls from heartless assholes pretending to be his daughter.  or crank calls from sadistic heartless criminals saying that they knew where little Nicole was.  all lies.  Jack no longer answers his phone.  his daughter’s room has never been touched since she went missing twenty years ago.  he looks at old pictures of the three of them together smiling while sitting on a canoe.  he reads letters from Nicole that say, “I love you Mamma and Dadda.”  he gets hot.
  Jack opens Nicole’s bedroom window and lies on her bed.  he hears all the kids screaming and having fun.  he wonders what happened to his little daughter.  there were never any clues.  never any signs.  there were huge police searches.  volunteer searches.  private investigators.  nothing.  Jack spent all of his remaining money in the search for his lost daughter.  he wonders what kind of monster would take a defenseless innocent ten year old.  he only wants closure.  life is cruel.
  Jack finishes his last beer and needs more.  he brushes his teeth and looks through the peephole of his shitty apartment.  no one.  he opens the door and then it closes behind him.  he looks down the hallway of his seventeenth floor apartment.  nothing.  he wonders where Nicole was abducted.  he wonders if she ever made it down to the lobby to meet her friend.  they were going to go swimming.  it was a hot day in July when she was taken.  Jack pushes the elevator button that points down and gets on the elevator.  he wonders if Nicole was abducted on the elevator.  back then there were no cameras in the elevator.  every step Jack takes he thinks of Nicole.  he thinks of Jane.  the two women he loved more than himself and he cannot get them out of his mind.  he cries.  he exits his apartment building lobby and walks towards the beer store.  it is cold.  it is sunny.  Jack sweats.  he keeps his head down and wonders once again if he will ever see his ten year old daughter.  she would now be thirty.  life goes by too quickly.  Jack walks past a cemetary.  he stops.  he turns around and walks in.  he walks forty two steps and turns to the right.  he walks twelve more steps on the grass and stops in front of a brass plate that is on the green grass.  it reads Jane Tait…July 10, 1952 – August 12, 2002.  Nicole, Jane, Jack.  Forever and Ever.
  Jack sits down.  he looks to the sky.  he breathes deeply.  he begins to cry uncontrollably and yells, “WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHERE IS NICOLE?  WHERE IS NICOLE?  WHERE IS NICOLE?  PLEASE BRING HER HOME.  SHE IS ALL I HAVE AND I NEVER GOT A CHANCE TO SEE HER GROW UP.  PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME.  PLEASE?  ANYONE…”
  Jack knows he will sleep alone again.  he walks away.  sad and lonely.  tired.