Writing on the Wall

Once, when I was traveling through Arkansas, I stopped at a rest stop for a bathroom break.  Graffiti in such a place can always be entertaining in some fashion, although sometimes it is just childish and/or repulsive.  I happened to find a note, however, written with what looked to be a yellow highlighter on a mustard yellow door.  It went something like this:

“PLEASE HELP! My name is Brandee Johnson and I am 9.  My mom’s boyfriend has kidnapped me.  I can’t get away, but I want to go home.  My mom is Carla Johnson and live in St. Louis.” 

It was written in a child’s big scrawl and very hard to read.  I was terrified for her.  There were no bathroom attendants or anyone else to ask about the date of this message appearing.  I didn’t know what else to do, so I called the state police and told them about the message.  I also called 1-800-THE-LOST in case the missing girl had been reported as lost.  I also wondered if it was just a childish prank and I was a fool to think it was real.  Or perhaps it had been there for months and Brandee was long gone. 

Fifteen years later, I still sometimes think about what might have happened to her, and if it was a real cry for help, or a prank. 

Write a scene that includes graffiti and what it might or might not be trying to say.

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