/ "and i have to speculate that god himself did make us into corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces from the clay" /
Michelle "Mickey" Hopper has a lot of problems. An alcoholic father ignoring the loss of his youngest daughter, her sister, Sarah...
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...Wednesday, November 9, 1983... i wanna be sedated - ramones
Mickey sat at the kitchen table, trying to focus on her studying as she ate her microwaved frozen dinner. It was already getting late and she hadn't seen her father yet. She knew he was busy with Will's case and she didn't much resent that, but he usually dropped by at least once even on his worst days.
Most of the time, they missed each other timing wise, but Mickey could always tell when he'd been in a space. It was unspoken, really, but she saw how little things would be displaced or a pair of shoes would be switched out with another. She always caught the subtle differences.
That day, however, Mickey had come home almost immediately after school and everything was exactly how they left it that morning. Now it was dark outside and there was still no sign of him. It made her anxious and she'd already popped a pill to combat that. But now, she couldn't help but dial the precinct to check in on him.
"Sheriff's station," the woman on the phone greeted. Mickey immediately recognized her voice as the lady who would constantly try to make her father's habits healthier, replacing his coffee and cigarette with an apple. It never worked, but she appreciated the effort nonetheless.
"Flo, hey. It's Mick. Any idea if my dad will be home anytime soon?"
"Oh, hello, darling... Have you... You haven't seen the news, have you?"
Mickey's heart dropped into her stomach. "What news?" She quickly moved to turn on the tv and saw every local news station down at the quarry. The sirens of all kinds tipped them off to the location. It'd been confirmed that a body was pulled from the water. A child's body. "No... Can't be," Mickey muttered, tears pricking her eyes.
"I don't think he'll be home until late," Flo said solemnly.
"Yeah... If you see him, tell him I love him for me?"
"Of course, dear. You try and get some sleep for me, alright?"
Mickey nodded, then realized Flo couldn't see her. "Alright," she replied, knowing damn well sleep wouldn't be coming any time soon.
She put the phone back on the hook and sat down on the couch, eyes glued to the screen. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling in her chest. In fact, it was painfully commonplace in her life. The feeling of the older sibling, now an only child. Of the mother, missing her youngest. Of the father, ignoring the residual pain.
Sarah, her mind said. Then over and over and over again. Sarah, Sarah, SARAH. WILL IS GONE. HE'S NOT COMING BACK. HE'S JUST LIKE SARAH. SARAH IS GONE. SHE'S NOT COMING BACK. WHERE'S BARB? BARB IS GONE. SHE'S NOT COMING BACK. ALL OF THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE LEAVE. ALL OF THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE DISAPPEAR. YOU DON'T DESERVE THEIR LOVE.
Mickey sat on the couch, eyes affixed to the tv, for hours on end. Knees up to her chest and tears streaming down her face. She could guess the number of pills she popped during those couple of hours was around three, maybe four, but she wasn't really counting.
