 | by
Emily in Massachusetts |
Author's Note: Not much to say. I don't feel this chapter is that great.
It might have been minutes, or it might have been hours that we stood together. I didn’t care- the clock wasn’t important. I should have felt scared, or betrayed. But nothing except emptiness crept around me.
“Molly,” I whispered, voice cracking a little, “What will we do?”
She hugged me, trying to comfort me. It worked- a little. “Don’t worry,” she told me, even though it would be impossible not to, “We’ll find this Eric Thompson and he’ll get Mom. Then everything will be all right.”
I knew it wasn’t true, but I needed to believe something, so I told myself. Over and over again. After all, it was the only shred of hope I had left.
“Leah, we’ve got to go.” Molly finally whispered, “Pack your bag.” And she let me go.
I didn’t want to be alone. Not in this cursed house where both my dad and mom left. I went anyway, walking as slowly as possible, my feet playing a dead beat on the floor. Packing would mean giving up. Giving up on Mom and maybe even this Eric Thompson. I knew we weren’t going there. I let a few more tears escape, remembering how Mom always told me the bad things always happening on TV weren’t reality. She was wrong.
Grabbing an L.L Bean purple duffle bag (small in size), I threw whatever was in my closet into the open slit, not even looking at the clothes. Off the floor, I grabbed my windbreaker that I had left there yesterday. Something gave a muffled thud as I flung the coat in. Something shiny and gold. I grabbed it.
The sparkling rose locket with a chain like a snake. And its fall had pried it apart. On the inside it was a faded gold- small circle on each side. One side was blank. The other had a picture of a smiling girl. A picture of me.
I didn’t scream for Molly this time, instead I kept staring. I looked about four or five. My hair was a lighter shade and much prettier- even in pigtails. I was laughing at something- smiling brighter than I could ever remember doing. The setting was something I couldn’t understand. It appeared to be a long brightly-lit hallway. There also appeared to be someone standing next to me, someone’s thin shoulder. My eyes were averted to the mystery shoulder. Stupid locket. I placed it in the bag anyway.
I packed carefully after that. Making sure the clothes I wore weren’t too dressy- who knew where we were going. My little duffle bag wasn’t half full when I called to Molly. She appeared almost immediately, her school knapsack slung over a shoulder.
“C’mon, Leah. We have to go now. I’m afraid Dad or whoever he is might’ve done something.” She took my hand and led me downstairs. I felt blind.
“Where?” I ventured quietly, but Molly just shook her head.
“Genius,” I mused somewhat fretfully.
“Hush up,” Molly murmured.
The situation must have been really bad if we were going through pointless small talk. I was too freaked out to really comprehend what was going on. One thing I knew for certain- whatever happened that made Mom leave us, I hated it.
We stood together in the kitchen, committing it to memory. The glassy countertops, sparkling in unison with the cherry cabinets. Our table stood off to the side, a lacey table cloth invited four guests to sit down and have a meal. Through the window I could see the faint floral rays of dawn slowly unfurling on the sleepy town. It had rained last night, sending a rainbow wavering at my feet. I bent down, slowly reaching out to touch it. It glimmered once more, fading into the air as I skimmed it.
I knew without words Molly was waiting. In a blur of dewy tears that wouldn’t fall we walked through the rest of the house. Silence only interrupted by the soft crackling as the heater spluttered. The gentle light of dawn brushed everything in a dreamy glow. I could see the shreds of dust falling through the air, dancing on a ribbon of light. Everything, no matter how insignificant it was seemed so wonderful. And suddenly, I couldn’t look anymore.
The neighborhood was slowly waking up. And occasional light flickered as Molly and I treaded silently on the driveway- not looking back. We came to a stop at the end. Molly looking across the street at our neighbor’s cheery house. I glanced back to ours, cold and uninviting. Number 23 Welkin’s Avenue was officially empty.
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