vanished

chapter one

A new day starts with the soft rays of light signifying sunrise.

The streets light up and not the harsh artificial light but the natural glow of dawn. Mornings mean a fresh start for most people, and for others like me? Well I hate it.

My mornings starts with the jarring sound of my ancient alarm clock which never fails in disturbing my pathetic sleep cycle but I got to get up anyways.

I do the rituals which all involve the use of the bathroom, on my lucky days the hot water runs in the shower but today is no lucky day.

A cold shower is all I need to wake up from my slumber, I’ve never managed to get used to the shock that goes through me when the cold water touches my body.

My closet doesn’t really give me a choice when it comes to what to wear. A few pairs of jeans, some T-shirts, a dress or two and my boots. My sneakers are scattered somewhere in the room, I check under the bed and find it along with a box of day old pizza.

Throwing on my faded blue jeans and a black T-shirt that had seen better days, I looked like a train wreck. My hair was a mess and I had bags under my eyes, I always avoided the mirror wherever I went, afraid to see the face staring back at me.

 The time on the clock read 7:15, school started in 30 minutes, enough time to grab a burger and a cup of coffee at Maggie’s.
I never missed breakfast, one of the only things in my life I was willing never to change.

When I stepped out of my room, the entire house as always looked like it had been hit by a tornado, the floorboards were breaking, the paint on the walls were peeling and trash lay everywhere, anyone could guess that no one took care of the house. It never bothered me, this wasn’t a home to me. It was simply a house where I passed the night.

 A huge, heavy breathing Lump lay on the couch, stench of puke everywhere.

Rich was an alcoholic on the verge of a breakdown, a lowlife whose only purpose in life was found in a bottle of alcohol. I had always wondered why mom had married him after my dad died, well one had to agree, on his good days Rich was a charmer.

 Southern gentleman and all that, sweeping my mom off her feet and chaining her to a farce called marriage which had eventually claimed her life in the end. The social security checks were the only reason rich had decided to take me as a responsibility. He had no job and with Mom gone he needed income for his bottles.

Mom had no living relative and my real dad was an Italian immigrant. The reason for my dark coloring, I took after my dad’s features, not that I ever knew him. Mom never talked much about him.

Two bottles laid on the ground beside the couch with a few wraps of chocolate bars, a good thing though was that Rich had a sweet tooth, he always had a bar of chocolate lying around.

I spotted one close to his head, while stretching to take it I accidentally bumped his head. He grunted and started snoring heavily. There were mails scattered on the floor but I didn’t bother, probably bills and junk mail.

The morning air was cool on my face as I walked towards Maggie’s coffee shop. Businesses were just opening and few people were out on the street. I hadn’t had dinner last night and my stomach was having a meltdown. I took my phone out of my pocket and decided to call Casey, my phone power was dead. Shit.

Casey was my best friend, she was actually my only friend. The only one who ever understood what I’d been through, she was there through it all.

Far back when we were little, people had always referred to us as polar opposites, I was the rebellious, moody one and Casey was all smiles and flowers. Funny thing though was that those flowers was the beginning of our friendship.