The Beginning, Middle, but not the End

Day 6,031 (April 22nd)

I wake up to a loud high-pitched squeal that comes from the first floor. As I swing my legs over the side of my bed to go investigate, I get an unwelcoming feeling. My stomach clenches. Something feels off, and my body knows it before I do. What's going on downstairs?

The kitchen light is on. I see Mom and Dad talking to Callie. I wonder what's going on. Before I speak, I walk to the pantry to get my breakfast. Callie holds a yellow package in her hands from the corner of my eye. I set the cereal down on the table, and then go to find the milk.

"Jodie, your sister has some important news." Mom interrupts my preparations.

I nod, "I'm listening."

Something bad seems to happen before my brain has time to process it. I grab a bowl out of the cabinet as Callie says, "My submission to Florida International got accepted!"

Something hits my chest as I turn around, and the bowl in my hand falls to the floor. The bowl shatters, but the sound doesn't come until a few seconds after the crash. What is happening? My stomach ties into a big knot, and I think I'm going to be sick. I feel my mouth still open from shock. I wasn't expecting this. "When did you even send an application?"

Mom falls to her knees by my side and starts picking up the shards from the bowl, "Jodie Marie, don't be rude. This is good news."

I frown, "For who?" Callie has tears in her eyes now.

"Jodie!" Dad is looks taken aback by me and furrows his light red brows.

Everything feels hot; the surrounding air, the blood in my veins, the water in my eyes, my body, everything. My mouth is dry, too dry. Something is pounding, who could be here this early on a Saturday morning? No one, the pounding comes from my heart. I hear it loudly in my ears. I look down, my hands are balled into fists. I'm not going to hurt anyone, why are they clenched?

Before I process anything, my thoughts spill into my mouth, "I thought you were supposed to be here for me whenever I need you."

"No, Jodie. I'll still be here, just not phy-" She doesn't finish what she's saying because I run to my room. Without thinking, I grab a bag. I put in a shirt and a pair of leggings. The next thing I throw into the bag is my wallet and charger. I put on sandals, and go downstairs. The first thing I do is grab a hoodie, and open the front door. Where am I going?

"Jodie Marie Sizemore, don't you dare leave. Get back here and talk to us!" Mom yells from the living room doorway. I shake my head, and walk out.

The brisk air hits me like a thousand bricks. What am I doing? My feet take me down a familiar route, one after the other, down the driveway and to the sidewalk. 'I walk, making the necessary turns to reach my mystery location. My head boils with anger, I try taking deep breaths with every other step to help calm me down, but it doesn't work. My body tenses, my fists clenching and unclenching. I turn onto a driveway and walk up to a familiar big red door. I knock, but no one answers. I try the doorbell, nothing. I notice the driveway is empty. What now? I go to the garage, and I hear nothing. No music is being created. No one is home.

Where now? I pull out my phone and dial a number. This is probably a long shot. The phone rings, and rings, and rings. My eyes start stinging and I want to scream. Muffled growls escape my mouth, I'm trying not to cause a scene. I look around again, I'm in a different part of the neighborhood. Finally, a familiar voice speaks, "Hey! What's up?"

"Zelda? I need you. Can y-"

The voice cuts me off again, "Ha! I'm just kidding, I'm busy right now. Leave a message and I'll get ba-" This time I cut it off by hanging up. How strange is it that this playful prerecorded message twists into a cruel joke? I just want someone. I need someone. I'm not okay. What am I supposed to do now? I can't be home right now, not when everyone there isn't being right. Why do they want to leave me?