The Invisible

[sixtyplus]

Not far to go now till you caught up I cant wait till then please please hurry lol 

[csi_forever1]

Hey everyone. Sorry, but I won't be catching up on many chapters today like I told you yesterday. But DON'T WORRY; I'm still giving you at least one chapter. Explanation:

Currently it is a little after 5:30 PM over here and I had a soccer game at 3... in 40 degree (F)  weather, with 30 mile an hour winds. Needless to say, I am FREEZING; right now I am wearing under armor, a t-shirt, a sweat shirt and a jacket, as well as socks up past my knees, two pairs of shorts and sweat pants, & I am still freezing cold and thawing. I still can't feel me toes. 
So in conclusion, I'm turning in early so I don't catch pnemonia (or at least a cold)! The last thing I need is to get sick again!
But enjoy this chapter while I go thaw.
Angst alert! Angst alert! But all I will tell you, is... I only write happy endings. (In other words: keep the faith!)


Chapter 6:

               "No guys, it's my turn to pay." said Nick. They had all been debating for the past couple minutes as to who would pay.

               "You sure?" Warrick asked.

               "Yeah."

               "Well, then I'll go get the car and bring it to the front so we don't have to walk all the way to it in this weather." Greg told them as he put his coat on and headed out into the parking lot in the pouring rain. Moments later, Nick returned to their booth.

               "Okay, we're paid for! Where'd Greggo go?"

               "To get the car." Catherine informed him.

               "Good plan."

               Turning her attention towards Grissom, Catherine grew concerned. He had his head in his hands and looked just plain sick. "Hey, you okay?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her.

               "Migraine." He simply said. Not lying, though it wasn't the entire truth.

               "Sounds like fun." Warrick said.

               "Tons."

               They then heard the beeping of a car horn as they saw Greg with his truck, pulled up to the front.

               "Let's not keep him waiting." Catherine says.

               "I got shotgun!" Warrick calls as he exits the diner first.

               "Aw man! You got it on the way up..." Nick complain as he makes his way outside as well. Catherine looks back at Grissom as she stands and hands him his jacket.

               "You sure you're okay?" she asks a second time. He gives her a small smile.

               "I'm fine."

               "Alright, if you say so."

               They both quickly left Frank's and hopped into Greg's car. The ride back to the lab went by as all of the CSI's quickly got into their respective cars and drove to their homes. Grissom quickly got into his car and put his keys into the ignition, then looked for his phone. Not finding it in his pockets he tried to retrace his steps as to where it was. He didn't remember having it at the diner. What about Greg's car? No, not there. His office? Well where else would it be...

               He got out of his car and hurried himself into the lab, trying to keep himself as dry as possible in his jacket. Finally reaching the confines of the lab, he began the walk to his office, waving to Judy as he passed her station. Reaching his destination, he unlocked the door to his office and walked in. Walking over to his desk he searched on top of it, then in his desk. Not there, or there. Then stooping down he peered under it; finding his cell, finally. Flipping it open, he noticed a blank screen staring back at him. Grissom then tried turning it on, but with no avail. Dead battery, his thoughts confirmed. Putting his phone inside his pocket, he made his way down the halls of the lab, out the door, and towards his car, again. Getting inside his car he then started his drive back to his apartment.

               Arriving home, he threw his jacket onto the coffee table and took a seat onto the couch. Hank happily approached his master, taking a seat at the on the floor in fron of Grissom. "Hey boy," Grissom said to the dog as he scratched behind his ears "Miss me?" the dog responded by laying down, yawning, and proceeding to fall asleep. "I guess not." he said to no one. Now what to do...

               Cell phone. Walking into their-- his bedroom, he plugged his phone into the charger, and turned it on. Seconds later, a high pitched beeping filled the room. Opening his phone, the screen read, ONE NEW VOICE MESSAGE. Sitting down on the bed, he called his viocemail, and listened on the other end. Static. When the message ended he pressed 1, playing it again. This time he could hear someone talking, but couldn't make out any of the words. Replaying the message one last time, he couldn't make out one word. Maybe I'm just tired, he thought to himself. Putting his cell phone atop the dresser, he then began to get ready for bed; which also including taking something for his ever-increasing migraine.


               He had been laying in his been for the good part of an hour. Sleep had not yet come. He had had trouble with getting back to sleep in the first couple months that Sara was gone, but he soon grew used to it. Sitting up in his bed, he flung his feet over the edge and hands on his knees. Damn migraine, he thought to himself. Rubbing his temples he stands and walks into the bathroom. Opening his cabinet, he then takes more of his migraine medicine; hoping that it would soon leave him. Twenty minutes later he was laying back down in his bed; finally fast asleep. His dreams pleasantly filled with images of times he and Sara had spent together. All leading up to when Sara had kissed him goodbye, and began walking slowly down the halls of the lab; it had been the last time he had seen her in many months. Suddenly these dreams were anything but dreams. As she walked away, everything in his dreams went black. Soon the only thing there was him and her letter. Just standing there, all alone. Next thing, he was standing in the middle of a forest; it was raining. He then began walking, and walking, and walking. Then he heard it.

               "Gil."

               Quickly turning arourd, he tried to find the source of the voice. It almost sounded like her voice...

               "Gil... help."

               Looking to the right and about 50 yards into the forest, there she was.

               "Sara." he gasped. It almost felt real. She was walking-- no wait, she was running away. Her head turning back at him, facing him. She was pale, like a ghost.

               "Gil... hurry, please." She kept going.

               "Sara!" he began running after her. "Sara, I'm coming!" he yelled.

               "Hurry, it might be too late..." she yelled back.

               What? Too late... he thought to himself.

               "It's right here... no!" she cried, looking down at something on the ground and falling to her knees. He began approaching her and as he layed his hand upon her shoulder, everything went black again.

               "Sar-- Sara! No..." Grissom yelled into the open. Then he heard something else. Static. And then, her voice again. She sounded quiet, shaky even. As if she were scared. It was the sound that made his heart ache.

               "Gil... help."

               "Sara... where are you?"

               "Help. Well. Hurt."

               She was coughing; in pain. Something was wrong.

               "Honey, please. Where are you?" Suddenly, she was standing a few feet in front of him.

               "Listen again... and come find me." she then turned around and began walking. Within a matter of seconds she was out of sight. Then the last thing he heard was her scream.

               Springing up in his bed and away from his nightmare, he looked around at the morning light creeping in through the cracks in his blinds and whispered to himself. "It was only a dream..." Looking around the first thing he spotted was his phone. He then remembered his dream,

               "Listen again..." she had said. You're crazy, Gil. He thought to himself. But... what harm could it do. He then picked up his phone and once again dialed the nunber to his voice mailbox.


               As if time had reround itself, Sara soon found herself standing just outside the airpost; and with no recollection of the night prior. As far as she was aware, she had just been dropped off by her mother, moments before. Looking around, she noticed she was not with her suitcase.

               Hmm, I must have taken care of it already. she tells herself.

               Looking around and finding no clock on any of the walls, she walks up to the clerk and asks,

               "Excuse me, do you have the time?" Gaining no response, Sara waits a moment. "Excuse me, miss?" Sara says, leaning over the counter a bit, trying to get the woman's attention. Still no response. "Excuse me?!" Sara says as she waves her hand in front of the woman's face, getting very annoyed. Preparing to raise her voice even higher, she is stopped when a man walks up to the same woman at the same counter.

               "Excuse me, but where are the bathrooms?"

               "If you walk through the entrance, there will be a hallway directly to your left; that's where you can find them."

               You have GOT to be kidding me! Sara thinks as her anger rises.

               "Now, this is just plain rude!" Sara tells the clerk, raising her voice. Though when the woman still doesn't notice her, Sara storms off in search of another employee. Seeing one walking back from the backrooms, Sara tries to catch up with him.

               "Excuse me, sir?" No response. "Hello? Do you hear me?" Still no response.

               What on Earth is going on? she begins to think, It's like I'm a ghost!

               She then jogs up to a security guard and, after yelling and even jumping around in front of him, she got the same response as the other two employees; nothing. Something was up.

               "Hello, can anybody hear me!?" She screams walking around in the middle of the airport. "Please, anybody? Hello!" she continues to scream as she runs up to various strangers, waving her hands in their faces. She then starts to cry. What's going on? Am I dreaming? Sara then gives up and sits in the middle of the floor of the busy airpost, and puts her head in her knees and thinks. Think Sara. What happened...

               Then, it all started to quickly come back to her.

               Her delayed flight.

               The storm.

               A car.

               A bat.

               Pain; lots of pain.

               Jason.

               A well.

               Calling Grissom.

               Then, boom, nothing. There she was, alone.

               "Oh my God." she says outloud. "I'm dead."
Don't hate. Just leave some love.

[sam11108]

yeah don't get sick on us.  that was so wrong to stop right there...lol

[GSRLOVER34]

yeah don't go and get sick on us, great chapter! your getting closer to where you left off before!

[RusCSI]

She's not dead, I know it. I also have a migraine since I woke up and I understand your reasons. As you remember, I love the start of this story then I love its updates. Update when you can. 

[sixtyplus]

good again please carry on soon 

[csi_forever1]

               He waited a minute, and soon a familiar sound filled the speakers. Static. "Listen again..." he thought as he remembered his dream. He then replayed the message, closed his eyes, and focused all of his attention on the message. Trying to catch anything around the static, he was determined to do. He could hear something; or someone, rather. He couldn't distinguish any words in particular, but there was someone talking, that was for sure. He replayed the message yet again, and tried to tell what was being said, then he heard one word that made his heart flutter. "...Gil..." It was definitely Sara's voice that every so gently said his name and caused him to sit up straight in his bed. Eyes wide open, ears focusing on every part of the message, head pounding. Listening intently to the message, the next phrase he was not able to fully understand, yet the one after that gave him chills. "... help. Well. Hurt..." Either he was still dreaming, or something was wrong. It was like de ja vu. Though despite this shock to him, he was still set on deciphering the rest of the message. More static filled his ears as well as more words he could not understand. "... I need..." "... love..." those were the only other three words that Grissom could understand within the recording. Quickly closing his phone, he retrieved a notepad and pen from the drawer in the nightstand and wrote down the words that he had just listened to. He reticed them as he wrote,

               "Gil. Help well hurt. I need. Love." he read it over and over again as his mind raced, Is something wrong? "help well hurt," what does that even mean? What am I supposed to do now? Stopping his thoughts, he realized that he needed to calm down in order to think properly, or even to reason with himself. There was a lot of static, and I might be misinterpreting whatever it is she said. And I might have missed some key parts of it with those words I couldn't understand. Thinking more optimistically, Grissom soon began to slowly calm down a little at a time. But there was two things that he knew for sure. He was either freaking out over nothing, or trying to convince himself that everything was okay, when in reality, it wasn't. Looking at the alarm clock to the left of him, it read a bright red 11:49 AM; almost noon. He slept in a bit late. I can always just call her and check up on her. he thought to himself. Taking a few minutes to compose himself he dialed her number and waited.

               He then found himself smiling as he listened to, not the normal ringing noise that usually accompanies one during the wait of a call, but a song on the other end play. He never knew why, but Sara always had the undying need to have music play when he called as well as special ring tones for the different people she knew. He remembered asking her about what if someone from work would call her and hear that, how unprofessional it would seem. But she would always reassure him with a smile, "I made it special, so only you can hear it." Grissom never really knew how she did it, but she did. When he called from any other phone besides his cell phone, he would only hear the typical ringing, but on his cell, he heard a song. He didn't know the name of it, but he would always catch Sara walking around the house singing it. She would call it "their song", which he never fully understood as to why it was "their" song, even to this day. Interrupting the memory came her voice, but much to Grissom's chagrin, it was only the recording. He then decided to leave a message of his own.

               "Hey Sara. I--um, just called to check up on you. Uh, just to see how you're doing. Please call me back when you get this... please. I love you."
Hanging up, he placed his phone down, and headed to his closet in search for clothes for his day. With his migraine still with him, work that night was going to be very, very long. Though in the back of his head, he still held the feeling that something was wrong.


               She was walking along a busy road on a sidewalk of a small part of town. Passing the various little shops and restaurants that took up most of the space on either side of her. People were walking in and out of the doors of the shops and boutiques; bags in hand. Sitting down on a bench, she watched the people as they passed. Some of them with smiles on their face, laughing. Others looked plain-faced, like they had either had a bad day at work, or they were just tired. She looked to the sky and at the birds flying above her; it was clear out today, only a cloud or two floating above. It was also warm with a slight breeze, which relieved her when she felt it. Everything was calm, unphased, like nothing had happened. No matter what would happen today, the world would keep on spinning and other people would keep on living. She placed her hands on the bench at each side of her and felt it's rough, bumpy texture. The wooden bench was covered with a beige colored paint, which was slowly chipping away. She could smell the recent cooking of fast food which eminated from a young girl skipping along with her mother, presumably. She had a small box of french fries in her hand as she told her mother about something which had to do with school the day before, she guessed. She listened to the soft hum of the cars as they passed. There was no beeping or screeching of tires or any obnoxious noises of the sort. It was all very, peaceful. An old woman soon found her way to the bench and sat beside her, she was looking around as if trying to find someone. Meeting a friend, maybe.

               "So this is what it's like to be dead." Sara said to the woman, while looking back up to the sky at an airplane slowly making it's way across and out of her view. The woman then waved to a young man approaching, her son possibly, and left her seat on the bench.

               Everything was so peaceful.

               Maybe this is what it's like to be dead. Sounds become sharper, and world becomes more clear. But what if she just had been moving to fast to be able to stop and take a deep breath away from everything. Maybe that's what she had needed to do instead of runaway from her life. She was moving at warp speed and needed to slow down. I could have definitely tried doing that before, she thought to herself. Not that it really matters anymore. When Sara had left the airport, she ran. Into a car, actually. Or, it had run into her at least. But it didn't stop, it just kept on going. Like it was before. It didn't matter, she was dead after all. Wasn't she? That's where she became confused, she could hear things and see things, and even smell and feel things. Which was not exactly what she was expecting. Well, she wasn't expecting anything really. Dying wasn't exactly on her list of things to do that day. Aren't ghosts supposed to be floating and see-through? she thought to herself. Looking down at herself (solid and non-floating) sitting on the bench she erased that thought from her mind. "Nope, definitely not." But she could feel things. That's what confused her the most. When she was nailed by the car, she felt it. There was no pain, which freaked her out a little, but still, she had felt it.
Which could not be easily said for the truck, or it's driver. She felt her side where she had been hit, and felt no bumps, bruises, or breaks. Even her clothes seemed to be in perfectly fine condition. They appeared as they did when she had put them on earlier, or the day before, or maybe it could've been two days before for all she knew. "Not that it matters." she gloomily told herself. But-- how long had she been dead, was the next thought intruding her mind. But quickly blocking out that question she had to ask another, more important one. Had they even found her body?

               Did they even know that she was dead?! Sara then picked herself up and began the walk back to her mother's house. She needed to get out of her own little world and needed to know what was going on in the rest of the world.

Now please leave me some lovely comments.
<3

[RusCSI]

Your start of this story is my favourite moments!!! Can't wait next and also new chapters!
Lovely comments... Ok. Take it.

[sam11108]

this is a great story...please continue with more great chapters!  is that lovely enough?

[GSRLOVER34]

great ud! loving this story! ud asap!

[sixtyplus]

Great again you nearly there to where you where cruely cut off please update soon.

[dyneemo]

See? There's that 'biting your knees, waiting for the suspenseful end of the story' thing again!

Keep going...we're all waiting

[csi_forever1]

See? There's that 'biting your knees, waiting for the suspenseful end of the story' thing again!

Keep going...we're all waiting

Haha, sorry about that. I guess it assures me that my readers will keep, well... reading!
(Even if it is a tad cruel.)


Chapter 8:

               Sara had finally reached her mother's house after some time. And when she got to the door she noticed that everything was rather, quiet. Maybe she hasn't found out yet... she thought. She walked in to the house and began searching for Laura Sidle. After a minute she heard someone talking on the phone on the patio out in the backyard.

               "I'm telling you, please can you send someone down here to help!" Laura sounded distressed, frustrated even. Sara wasn't too sure who she was talking to for a minute, but soon after she asked herself that, she had a pretty good idea. "She left me a message yesterday afternoon. I haven't heard anything since." Yep, she was calling the cops. "My name? Laura. Laura Sidle. My daughter is Sara Sidle-- Can't you just send someone down here, and then you can ask me your questions?" she paused and waited a minute, seeming to calm down. "Thank you, sir."

               "No rush." Sara coldly said out loud. She watched her mother as she sat down on the edge of the patio, pulling her knees into her chest, and looking out at the fenced backyard. Sara approached her mother and sat down next to her. Neither mother nor daughter said a word as they sat, waiting for the police to show up. A little over ten minutes later there was a knock at the door. Laura rose to her feet and walked inside and to the door. Answering it, there was a man at the door.

               "Long-time no-see," the older-looking cop said; he looked familiar to Sara. Though she couldn't remember where she had seen him before... "staying outta trouble now-a-days I hope, Laura." The portly man walked through the door.

               "Cut it out, Henry," Laura said, not very amused, "this is serious."

               "Alright, just making sure..." the cop said. "So what's this I hear about your daughter being missing?" he said, with a hint of skepticism in his voice.

               "Yesterday afternoon, she left me a message saying her flight was cancelled, and that she'd either come back here or catch a later flight. Then she promised she would call me, yet I haven't heard anything at all from her." Laura said as Sara watched from a few feet away. The cop looked long and hard at her, then invited himself into the living room. Touching the couch he began picking at her nerves.

               "I remember this couch." he said as he turned back to her, wearing a slight smirk. He turned back and finished his statement. "Someone did a hell of a job getting the blood stains out."

               That was a low blow. Sara thought to herself. Then she remembered where she had seen him before. He had been there that night. He also had been friends with her father. Laura breathed in and out deeply, as she put her hands on her hips and looked to the floor, shaking her head. This was going to be tough.

               "That was twenty three years ago. And I did my time. So you can just please forget about that for two minutes and help me out here!?" Laura said, practically yelling. "This isn't about me, Henry, this is about my daughter." the man paid close attention to her. "About Richard's daughter." he then looked at her and let a deep breath out.

               "Fine." and he left it at that.

               That's much better, Sara thought. The man then began getting down to business; finally.

               "So... wait. Isn't your daughter, like, thirty-something?"

               "Sara. And she's thirty-five."

               "Aah. So, when's the last time you saw her again?" Laura then took a seat on the couch and told him the same thing she had told the operator over the phone.

               "... and it's been almost twenty-four hours, so I called you guys." she said as she finished. Sara had been sitting on the couch next to Laura, listening in on the conversation.

               "Well, have you thought of any other possibilities?" he suggested.

               "What do you mean?"

               "Like, maybe her phone died. Or she just forgot..."

               "No, no, no. Sara promised. And she has never broken her promises. She would have found a way to call me." Laura told him. The officer thought for a little, then asked her another set of questions.

               "She was heading to Vegas, right?" he looked at Laura for some confirmation. When she nodded, he continued, "have you tried to call her in Vegas?"

               "No, I only have her cell phone number."

               "Is there anyone we can call to confirm if she is there or not?"

               "Um, she used to work at the Las Vegas crime lab. I think that's what she said anyway. Her fiance works there too."

               "Good, good. We'll follow up on that. Is there anywhere else she might be?" he inquired.

               "No, that's where she had her heart set on going. If she was heading anywhere, it was Vegas."

               "Alright then." Now, his tone turned more quiet, and more serious. "Now, did she have any, enemies?" Laura smiled sadly and let out a humorous laugh.

               "Only every person she helped to put away while she was in Vegas. You'd have to find out from someone else besides me." she said. The man then began towards the door, expecting Laura to follow; she did.

               "Okay. Well I guess I'll head back to the station and we'll start making calls. You know the drill and all." he said. "There anything else you feel like you should let me know..." he asked. She then waved him over with her hand out of the door as they took a seat on the step of the porch.

               "Remember last year, that one serial killer going around in Vegas. They called it the 'Miniature Killer'."

               "Yeah, yeah. It made news over here. I'm pretty sure news of it hit all around the country, too. Little bits and pieces at least. Crazy chick made miniatures and then killed the people. Pretty freaky stuff." Laura simply nodded, "Killed 5 people I think? Then the sixth one, stuck under a car. I'm pretty sure she lived though. Wonder what ever happened to her." Laura, looking straight ahead, nodded.

               "Right now she's missing. And her mother wants you to find her." she said looking him in the eye. Dumbfounded, he looked at her, jaw dropped.

               "You've got to be sh.itting me." he babbled out; clearly not expecting that revelation. Laura simply nodded as she put on a sad smile.

               "I don't want her to suffer any more. Please, find her. And if not for me, than do it for her, and for Richard." Henry stood up and smiled at her.

               "I'll do my very best." and with that he left in his squad car.

               Sara, who had been watching the two, soon, and silently, followed her mother back inside. Laura then found her way into her room, and closed the door. Sara decided to go back into the back yard and sit. Now that they were looking for her body. She could stop worrying, for now at least.

               Things were far from over.
LOVE.

[sixtyplus]

great again i love it 

[RusCSI]

Uh. I like it and can't wait next update.