by Alison Paige

Created on: June 24, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

Tuesday night I thought our lives had changed forever. My son stepped out at six o'clock in the evening to meet a few friends and I thought I would never hear from him again.

There's a funny thing that happens when you set upon doing something. Even if you say nothing of your plans aloud, the Universe conspires against you just to keep you on your toes.

I had plans to meet with all the women I work with the following day for our end of the year lunch and set myself to go to bed early so that I could get a few things done before leaving the house. I would watch the TV and head up before eleven. That was the plan.

The Celtics were beating the Lakers so that began the unraveling of my well laid plans. I wasn't going to bed until I saw the last of the Lakers humiliated and buried by Boston.

At eleven I text my son to see if he had been watching the game and to get an idea of where he was and what time he was coming home. I didn't get the immediate answer I normally do but I was into the game and didn't check again until close to midnight. No word.

I began to get annoyed because he's usually a little more considerate than this and would have texted me to "go to bed old woman ill b home soon". When he contacts me I'll go up, I thought. One o'clock and still no word. Okay, now I'm getting pissed but just short of thinking when he gets home I'm going to k....

One-thirty states the clock. I am now pacing from the dining room to the front room.Like a rocking motion I walk in I look out the window. I walk away. I repeat this over and over. Something is happening and I've abandoned annoyance. Irritation has been replaced by worry. His phone could have lost it's juice but he would have used a friend's phone to contact me. He's done that before. I was sure he would walk in by two. Nothing. Where the hell is he?! There is still a hint of annoyance, but it's becoming more and more faint with every passing minute.

Three o'clock in the morning. Now I begin to text his friends. Have you seen Mike? Is Mike with you? No one answers because they're all asleep. One friend answers me and volunteers to help me hunt him down but with no success. Panic has set in. Clear and distinct is the feeling that something had to have gone wrong because the birds would not be out singing at this hour of the morning and I am awake to hear them. Is my son also listening to the songs of the birds as he's lying somewhere unseen after having been hit by a car or beat up and no one sees him and he can't get

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