After another hour passes, I slam the book down with a sigh, realizing that I have been reading the same page over and over and I still don't know what happened. I feel the sudden, violent urge to tear up all the beautifully embroidered cushions, hand-sewn by my mom, that line the couch. Just to show them how much they have hurt me, when they come back...if they come back. Why? That's all my brain can think.Why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why would my beloved parents just...........leave me? I try to calm down. They're coming back, I tell myself. They didn't abandon me. But it's been four hours now, and they still aren't there. I search desperately for something to take my mind is off the fact that the people who were always there for me just............aren't. Shaking so badly I fall off the slick couch, I fall over my violin case. I pick up the instrument and try to play. A soothing lullaby comes to mind. But everything sounds staccato when it should be legato, and my hands are shaking so bad that my bow hops up and down on the strings and I do vibrato without even trying. I slam the case shut and pace around our living room like a tiger in a too-small cage. But the rooms aren't too small, they're too big, huge and empty with only me in them. It's past the time we normally have dinner. My stomach growls, but I don't know where most of the food is kept, only where my parents store the snacks. It crosses my mind that I have been spoiled. My dad always did the cooking........just the thought of him sends a fresh wave of panic down my spine. I bury my head farther into the pillow I'm clutching to my head and block out the world. I take a good look at it for the first time. My mom has embroidered my name in fancy script, with a heart around it. We love Sophie. But do they-- did they really? Then the phone rings, shattering the horribly empty silence.
