1.1 | Lost & Found

v. believe

I N D I G O

I wasn't always the indifferent dreamer people think I am. Truth is, deep down, we are all strange souls. Over time, we just become good at pretending to be normal. Dull, boring, and full of unpleasant memories. A ghost with translucency, not to be looked at, simply to be ignored. Along with Mom's uncompromisable shift, I'd somehow changed too. I used to be the kind of girl who'd spend her summers, chasing butterflies, a curious girl who spent her days between fluttering pieces of prose under honeyed sunsets when Mom used to take me to the beach. And somehow that girl turned into one who worked extra shifts at restaurants to support rent her mother was too intoxicated to pay.

I was drowning in a mess left behind by my mother's poor choices. And then eventually I was tired.

A bit too tired to stay afloat.

Ezra holds my hand the entire way to the car. I don't know how to react to that, that hasn't happened in a long time. But it feels good.

It's been five minutes since we've left the station and he hasn't spoken a word to me since. Something tells me he's not the cold, uncaring type of person...maybe he's just in shock. He holds the door open for me. It's a gesture too genuine for the kind of things I've seen and experienced all my life, so I'm not ashamed to say it brought almost-tears to my eyes.

"Thank you," I whisper out, although it takes a lot of courage.

For all I know, Ezra may not even want me back.

"You don't have to thank me, Indie. That's what family is for."

Something in my heart tells me I'm not thanking him solely for opening the door. And something in his voice tells me he isn't only talking about opening car doors either.

The car ride is a long one, and I look out the window the entire time. I've noticed that Ezra's been looking at me the entire time through the rear-view window. I'm too scared to look anywhere inside the car in fear that I'll meet his eyes. It might just be the fact that my contacts might be foggy, but I think I saw a lone tear slip down Ezra's cheeks.

Things did seem a bit awkward at the beginning of the car journey, but I appreciated the fact that Ezra did not force me into small talk. After he made sure I was comfortable, we elapsed into a comfortable silence. Something about this silence was different than the ones I've felt before. This silence isn't making me feel lonely like the one I hear when I retreat in my mind. This silence isn't the kind that brings unpleasant memories of Mom like the incessant silence I used to face at the apartment.

This is the kind of silence that envelops you and hugs you to the point where you believe that you are loved. This silence makes you open up your monotone spectrum to a world of color and wonder. This is the silence that makes you hear.

I've never felt anything quite like it.

If I could, I would bottle up this memory in a jar full of glitter and color and store it on the shelves of my heart, forever to remember. Where Ezra stayed was a long distance away from the police office because morning turned to late evening and the sky turned a few shades darker. Ezra stopped at a diner and held my hand the entire way to the diner too. I sneaked up a glance at him, I had to crane my neck all the way because he is so tall: His jaw was clenched and his eyes had a determining shadow but he held my hand gently like he was afraid clutching too tight would physically hurt me.

Little does he know what I've endured in the past is much worse.

The Diner we stopped by was a retro nineties diner with a sparkly headboard sign and rather bright red neon lights that soaked up anybody on the highway's attention. Something about the diner made me feel safe.

Maybe it was the smell of cinnamon wafting through the air.

Maybe it was the chatter of large families sitting on booths with warm smiles.

Maybe it was the kind waitress who called me 'darling' and ruffled my raven curls when she came to our table.

Or maybe it was the fact that Ezra's hand never left mine.

"What would you like sweetheart?" The kind waitress asked me. It wasn't one of my finest moments but I was blank. This was probably the first time when somebody actually asked me what I'd wanted. And that hasn't happened in a long time. I looked at the waitress with the turquoise apron and saw the fresh chocolate stains on her apron and noticed the wafting smell of vanilla cookies. Her ginger hair was held into a tight elegant bun. I've always wanted red hair.

People love to poke fun at gingers but honestly, it's the prettiest one's hair can get.

"She'll have a strawberry milkshake and a slice of pizza. And I'll get a pumpkin spice latte and a burger, thank you."

I looked down at my lap. Ezra remembered that I loved strawberry milkshakes. The thing with ghosts like me is that we don't usually receive acts of kindness like the waitress. We aren't the kinds to be remembered. Maybe people can't grow roots the same as trees do, but we both needed a place to dig in and grow some good memories. And so did I.

"Stop doing that thing." I glance up and cautiously look at Ezra who's grinning. There's a slight change in him: His jaw is no longer clenched and his lips are slightly upturned. Is that an attempt at a smile? Maybe he is thawing little by little.

"What thing?" I never realized I was even doing anything apart from staring out to eternity from the small booth's window.

"Stop thinking so much. How does your baby brain handle it all, anyway?" Ezra asks, by now fully grinning.

"I'm not a baby. I'm sixteen." My words are laced with a hint of annoyance.

"Honey, you're talking to a twenty-three-year-old, who happens to be your oldest brother. Of course, you're a baby, you'll always be my little baby sister." My cheeks heat up and I pretend to suddenly be very interested in my strawberry milkshake. I don't know how to react.

Should I hug him? No, that would be very awkward, considering that he's sitting in the seat opposite me. The stupid table would come in the way.

Should I thank him? No, that'll make me sound miserable like I had no life before he came along.

Are people always so confusing?

"You're doing it again? But this time a little more adorably with you're nose slightly scrunched up." I glance up slowly again only to be blinded by a flash of something bright, which I realized was Ezra's camera flash.

"Oh my god, please delete that," I whisper horrified by the fact that I've been caught off guard for the second time in one day.

"Don't worry, I needed a new lock screen anyway." I think he's pulling my leg. I've never been teased before by anyone. At school, I had no friends and at home, all I got to hear about was what a big mistake I am. Is this why they tell you that having a sibling is like having a super-infinity-best friend, one that'll catch you whenever you fall?

We're all born free, but we spend our lives being caged and restricted by our own false truths. Maybe having one friend wasn't going to kill me. I decided to change the topic.

"So is it only you, or-"

"Am I not enough Indie?" Ezra clutches his heart, faking his false hurt.

"No, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be sorry, Indie, I was just pulling your leg. But there are five of us. Olivia and Isaac- Olivia's been going crazy cleaning the house for your arrival- then there's Blake and Dakota. Olivia and Isaac are twins, by the way." The way he talks about them tells me that they mean the world to him.

At exactly that moment, my mind pulled me back into my world and in sync with my heart, showed me my first word of the day:

Believe.

The letters were made of melted sunshine. They dripped down the glass window of the booth, warm and tingly against our faces. Believe is a powerful word to see and to say. But at that moment, I felt it. And feeling it was the best of all. I knew something wonderful was about to happen to me. I didn't know what, or why, or how. But I believed.

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