Cronkri: I won't let you down

Chapter 18: Karkat

I left Eridan's house and started walking home pretty much right after my dad called me. When I got there, Dad was in the living room on the phone.

"No no, you're not listening. He's five foot four with shaggy brown hair. Tan. Usually wearing the color red. Yes. About a couple days ago."

I decided not to interrupt him and took my shoes off, heading upstairs to my room to change out of my swim stuff. By the time I got back downstairs, Dad was hunched over at the table, muttering something under his breath, his hands clasped in front of him. He was praying. I waited patiently for him to finish.

"Hey Dad."

"Oh, yes. Hello Karkat." He didn't even look me in the eye or anything before handing me a huge stack of papers. It looked like one of his or Kankri's speeches. The papers had a black and white picture of Kankri's yearbook picture with the words "LOST CHILD. OF FOUND, PLEASE CALL: 719-5654" typed under it. There was a brief description since yearbook pictures aren't always so accurate. I gulped and found a paper grocery bag, then dumped the papers into it and picked it up by the handle and grabbed a loaded stapler.

"Karkat?"

"Yeah?"

"Be sure and post those all over the place. I want one on every pole in town."

"Okay, Dad."

I lugged the bag around the block, stapling the signs to all of the posts that I passed, my hand shaking. After a while I was sick and tired of seeing that same stupid picture on every stupid pole in the entire fucking neighborhood. I stood and glared at that picture. That's not what he looks like. His face looks so plastic and fake. His smile is staged. His hair is combed all neatly. That's not my brother. I tore my eyes away from it and trudged on through the quiet streets. The bag was starting to feel a lot lighter. Then I came to a pole by the Amporas house. My gut dropped. I couldn't keep doing this, knowing that Kankri was safe inside there, probably having fun with his boyfriend. He wasn't in danger like Dad thought he was. I shakily put up a poster anyway, knowing that they could take it down if they wanted to.

By the time I had finally emptied the bag of all the posters I was supposed to hang up, my legs were starting to feel like jello. It's not every day you travel all over town putting up posters of your "missing" brother.

When I started approaching my house, I noticed a couple cop cars in front of it. My dad was outside, talking to them about stuff. I could hear snippets of their conversation as I got closer.

"...about three days..."

"...so sorry this happened..."

"We'll be on the case in no time, Father Vantas."

I ignored them and walked into the house, followed by shouts and looks of wonder from people who thought I was my brother. Not the first time.