Christine Collins shot up in bed. She thought she had heard a sound downstairs. She hadn't slept well in over a year now… ever since her little boy Walter had disappeared. It happened often enough that she woke at night thinking about what might have happened to her son; about where he might be. She had given up hope that he would be found. They were no longer searching for him. Who knew where Walter had ended up by now? Was he even alive still?
Christine could hear the sound again. This time convinced she hadn't dreamt it or such, she pushed aside the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, letting her feet touch the floor. She slowly got up, and looked backward and forth to search for something to defend herself with. It wasn't entirely normal that someone or something wandered around the house this hour. It was about four in the morning.
Her eyes locked onto a bar made of metal by the wardrobe. She padded over to it, and took it before moving further to the door of her bedroom, determined to go figure what was causing this creepy, nightly sound. Maybe one of the windows had opened. Maybe one of the branches of the trees surrounding the house was sweeping against it. Maybe the wind was more powerful than she thought, than before she had gone to bed.
Cautiously placing foot by foot on the stairs down, her eyes wandered around her looking for signs of disturbance. She didn't notice any. She could hear the sound once again. It wasn't coming from anywhere inside the house. Thus, she slowly padded further to the door, and unlocked everything, her hand on the defensive metal bar never weakening. She slowly opened the door, and moved to pad further to see more, when she almost fell over something on her doorstep. She looked down at the figure of a boy.
Christine's heart jumped at the thought of the resemblance with her son, but of course it couldn't be him. Christine lowered herself on her knees by the boy, and raised his body with one arm. Her fingers slowly stroked away the long, tangly hair from his face. She gasped as she looked at the boy in her arms. The resemblance was quite large, but this wasn't her son.
The eyes momentarily flickered, and that's when she realized she had been mistaken. The same soulful eyes she recalled looked into hers, even though their owner was so tired. "Mom…" it came from the lips of Christine Collins' son.
Tears ran down over her cheeks as she held the boy being her son closer to her body. "Oh Walter…" She would never get how he had found home again, how… She would never get anything of it, but she wouldn't ask either. She was just happy to see her son again. He didn't look his best, but he looked like himself. He indeed was the boy she had reported missing over a year ago, no doubt.