Lost and Found

prologue

Our lives are like stories in books, each day an unknown chapter.  The thing that makes them different from books, however, is that we do not usually know what happens next.  Like the characters in our stories, we are left with nothing but questions.  This is both a blessing and a curse – a blessing, because this keeps all things in order; a curse, because this means we could lose someone anytime, whether we like it or not.

I am and have always been thantophobic, which means I'm scared of suddenly losing something or someone that I love and care about.

It all started when I was 12, and when my younger brother Ramsey was 7.  We were playing catch.  Just then, the ball slipped out of my hands and out into the fence that separated us from the busy streets.

"I'll go get that," he said.  "Okay."

Never did it cross my mind that "okay" was the last thing I would ever say to him, not until I heard loud honks from outside and the sound of metal crashing against skin.  I immediately ran outside, only to find a corpse of a small boy with blonde hair flat on the floor.  Blood splattered everywhere.  An ambulance came by, followed by my parents' car.  I ran up to my dad and hugged him tight.  I still couldn't believe it.  Ramsey was dead and gone.

Ever since then, I started to cry every night, walking to school the next day with swollen eyes.  Some boys laughed the first time it happened, but I was tough enough to kick their shins and twist their elbows.  Everyone was afraid to go near me since then.

"Get away from me, you monster!" That's what they would say whenever I passed by them. 

Then everything changed one Wednesday morning.

It was recess, and just like every other recess time, I always sat in a corner alone, eating my tuna sandwich.  Suddenly, a short boy with dark brown hair and light blue eyes came towards me.

"If you're here to make a joke about my swollen eyes, then I suggest you do it now, so that I can go ahead and punch your face," I spat at him.   Normally, people would go away from me as soon as they'd hear that.

Then the most interesting thing happened.  He laughed.

"What, you think I wouldn't do that to you?"  I raised an eyebrow, extremely annoyed by its sound.  Thankfully, he stopped.

"No, I just thought it was extremely funny, you know."  he answered, grinning from ear to ear.

"Let's see how funny it is when I do punch your face, you – " My fist almost collided with his cheek until he grabbed my fist.

"Actually, I don't want to joke about your eyes.  I just want to be your friend.  I'm Finnick Beauregard." 

Then he shook my fist.  I was dumbfounded with his reaction.  I immediately let go of my hand.

"I don't need your friendship," I told him, as I jumped up from my seat and walked away from him.

"Look, I'm sorry about your brother, okay?"  His words stopped me in my tracks.  I turned to him.

"How do you know about that?"

"I happen to be your next-door neighbor.  I saw you that day, how sad you were and all that.  I know how it feels like to lose someone you love."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I cried when my dad died."  he gazed at me, his blue eyes melting with sadness. 

My jaw dropped.  "I'm sorry."

"That's okay, I was 7 then," he shrugged.

"No, I mean it."  I moved closer to him, feeling guiltier than ever.  "And I'm sorry for almost punching you in the face."

"Well you could have," he sighed.  "I really surprised you, and I shouldn't have done that."

"No, no.  That's okay.  At least you were trying to help."  Nobody would ever try to help.  They all hate me. 

"So what's your name?"

I paused for a few seconds, then replied, "Emery Wilder."

"Okay, Emery." he grinned.  "Let's go get some ice cream."

And everything began to change since then. 

And that's how Finnick and I became the best of friends.