Car parts and drug dealers.

Untitled part

Idiotic and petty arguments happened a lot between the two of you. It could be about anything. Who was to wash the dishes, who was going to do laundry, simple things. Harmless, silly things. Things that didn't truly matter to either of you. You would eventually apologize and end up in bed hugging one another and fall asleep in eachother's arms.

This time was different though. A lot different. But you didn't really mean it. You just wanted to tell them. All you wanted was to get your point across.

You had started arguing about their addiction, and that they needed help. They said they could take care of themselves, that they could stop when they wanted to. You knew they couldn't even if they really truly wanted without help. They kept saying it was okay, that they'd be fine, there was no need to worry. You lost your temper, knowing they were just lying, trying to get you to drop the whole thing entirely.

You called them selfish. Careless. Naive. You called them slurs and names while you yelled at them as they yelled back, pointlessly, in desperation. After minutes turned into half an hour of arguments and insults, they walked over to the couch, grabbed their old and tattered bomber jacket, and left, slamming the door without a word.

You stood there, odd expression on your face. It was a sort of shocked, but more offended look. You then gave them no more thought, and stomped upstairs to your room. And fall asleep barely undressed and halfway covered by the sheets and comforter.

-----

When they didn't come back the next day you paid it no mind, you assumed they were at one of the bars they repeatedly went to when they were upset, drinking their sorrows and anger away. And you were still mad so you didn't care to text or call them.

After they didn't come back for almost a week, you assumed they were being petty, hiding out at their parents, wanting you to go find them and apologize first. But you didn't want to do that, so instead you call their parents to ask if they were there.

"Sorry darling, we haven't seen them since you two came over last month with the vase I asked for, but I'll ask around. Don't worry, they'll be back. Otherwise we'll help look for them. Okay?"

You respond quickly and hang up. Tears threatening to spill out. What if they had gotten hurt? What if they weren't coming back? The last things you and said to them were foul, and you didn't want those to be the last words they ever hear from you.

After a week and a half, you go to the police and fill out a missing person's form. You then got acquainted with the lead detective working the case, she was sweet to you about it, not asking insensitive questions unless they were absolutely needed.

Their brother came over after you called him, he was younger than you, barely fifteen, so he was dropped off by his parents. You talked to them before you and him headed down towards the popular side of town, putting missing person posters up on almost every lamp post you could find. You two even put up some on neighboring towns and cities.

You weep and sob everyday, every month, every second that they were gone. It was your fault. And you knew it. Your sister came over every once in a while and let you cry on her shoulder, without saying anything the entire time.

Six months had passed since your beloved disappeared and their parents had knocked on your door with boxes, telling you that they were there to collect the stuff in your room that wasn't yours. You screamed at them, telling them to leave with their boxes and tape.

 They had said they had given up on their own child months ago. 

After that, you slept on their side, in their clothes, and took their pillow everywhere around the house, because it still smelled faintly like them. Sometimes you'd forget and make a second batch of coffee and let it cool while you cry, remembering that there was no one there to drink it. You kept crying until your eyes seemed permanently red.

Eleven months passed. Your sister had told you to get over it, they weren't coming back. You had told her to leave, with the most venom in your voice you had ever thought possible. You stopped talking to her after that. You cried even harder aswell.

Even the detective working the case had lost hope, she sent you flowers, which you left to rot on the table. The department stopped paying for the ads in the newspaper a while ago, but you never gave up. You kept looking, crying and sobbing while doing so, you did everything you could.

-----

You had no more tears left to cry, even after they pulled up the body that was lodged in between large rocks in the lake. There was no use for them now. There never was. It was pointless. They were gone. Gone.

They found the car not long after, on the side of a river bank. They couldn't tell wether they had slipped into the raging currents, or had purposely fallen in. Either way they were gone, it didn't matter how now.

You barely stayed for the funeral, you never visited their grave and you cut contacts with their parents and your sister, though your mother kept you updated on how she was doing. Two weeks after the burial their brother brought boxes and helped pack up their stuff. No words were exchanged at all in the four hours you spent boxing things up.

All that was left afterwards was their pillow and a framed picture of you and them up at your father's cabin, you faintly smiled at it.

Things were so much simpler then. You had thought to yourself, staring at the photo with no real reason.

After the anniversary of their disappearance, you watched their favorite movie, hugging their pillow, as you bawl through the whole thing. They meant the world to you. And now, they were gone.