Thanksgiving Monday was a beautiful, warm, fall day, but Barrie’s Angelika Crisp could feel the chill of fall coming.

She was outside wrapping her evergreen trees when her 15-year-old son Brandon told her he was leaving.

It was all over what his parents called an addiction to the Xbox game, Call of Duty. He wouldn’t sleep at night and his parents, so concerned about the effects it was having, grounded him from his virtual life.

The Grade 10 student at St. Joseph’s Catholic High School packed a few basics in his yellow backpack, grabbed his bike and prepared to head out from the family’s east-end home.

“I called his bluff. I said, ‘take your coat, even though it’s warm (today).’ He must have listened to me; he went back and got his coat.”

Angelika is thankful the quiet teen listened. The weather has since turned cold, and a week has passed since the family reported him missing to Barrie Police early on the morning of Tuesday, Oct. 14.

Brandon left with a few basics in his backpack – including a polar fleece blanket, a blanket he’d had for years and used to cover his budgie’s cage. Cujo chirped in the background as Angelika shared her story and her fears, which continue to mount with each passing hour of each passing day with no word from Brandon.

“This is eight days of panic. I haven’t slept three or four hours since he left. I wake up all night; (one night) I kept going out and checking the shed. I left money on the back table in case he came back,” she said.

“There were a couple of nights we stayed up (in shifts) in case he’d call. All we want is to have you home. It’s become dangerous.”

The family, she said, doesn’t know the virtual terrain of Call of Duty and they know little of those who played. They do, however, know of two other local teens, both Oro-Medonte residents, who played on his team.

They know little more; what they could see Brandon’s addiction intensify and they watched him withdraw from the world as he was moved more in the virtual world. They had tried to help him control his habit before. Brandon hardly enjoyed the summer, his parents said. He’d spent months inside, on virtual terrain – a world that includes abandoned cities, shipyards and courtyards.

“I told him he wasn’t getting it back this time,” said Steve, his father. “He said ‘if I’m not getting it back, I’m leaving home.’

“He started packing his knapsack around lunchtime.”

He told his mother, grabbed his coat and rode off.

The Crisps suspect he rode into Oro-Medonte, heading north to Line 7, where one of his teammates lives; the other lives on Lakeshore between Line 10 and Line 11. They watch each other’s backs as they fight enemies online.

The Call of Duty action was intensifying this week, as a global tournament, designed to spot up-and-coming talent, offered money for the most-talented players, said his father.

“You can get recruited into other clans and they offer money,” said Steve. “This is what we feel has happened because he doesn’t like to do physical work. We feel he may have been lured into a clan; that’s been our whole worry from Day 1.”

Dangers begin, however, as the reclusive youngster lacks real-world survival skills and he has no money. As he trusts his teammates to watch his online back, his parents feel he may misjudge those whom he should and should not trust.

Brandon, however, has not logged onto Call of Duty since he left home – at least using the identity he’s been building.

Angelika worries more as she hears more about the virtual culture and how some players enjoy marijuana while they play, to enhance their performance and increase their scores – points accruing as they injure and kill opposing team members.

“He could be getting into something he couldn’t control. He may be so out of it,” she said. “It’s a lifestyle. It’s an absolute obsession.”

His older sister Natasha has been staying in touch with friends and acquaintances by e-mail and text message; she has support in monitoring Internet social networks and finds it worrisome her brother hasn’t appeared virtually.

“I don’t feel it’s a friendly situation. Now he wants to go home,” said Natasha. “He would have contacted us. It’s just a gut feeling.”

They know Brandon took only a few basics with him – including that small polar fleece blanket he used to cover the budgie, a blanket that would offer little warmth in a long, cold autumn night.

“We need to find him now. It could be dangerous if it hasn’t become dangerous already,” said Angelika.