~Chris POV~
Chapter 3
Tossing and turning constantly, I couldn't sleep all night. My mind was haunted by the picture Ell had sent me. The image of Ell standing in front of the yellow doors I painted sent chills down my back. Not because of her looks; she's actually very pretty above average on the hotness scale if you ask me. I wouldn't mind hitting on her if she lived out here. The chills came from the fact that she's standing in front of my sister's dark and abandon looking house. The same house that I helped make feel warm and cozy was now looking cold and unoccupied.
Where the hell is Zoey? I stressed over and over again. Boy if she's alive and well, I will so strangle her to death and then hug the crap out her, but what should I do in the mean time. Should I stall on telling our mother? Give it a couple of more weeks while sending Ell on a search and rescue hunt, but what if something really did happened to Zoey. What if she's dead, held hostage, or being tortured? All this time being wasted when I can get the authorities involved."Fuck! Two more weeks; if I don't hear from Zoey, then I'm calling the cops." My mind was set; nothing could convince me to change it.
I stepped out of my old room and sat on the couch. Elbows resting on my knees, and my palms buried in my hair. Lost in thought I didn't know how long I sat like this for.
"Christian," I heard faintly. "Christian! Honey, are you okay?" I heard my mother's voice sounding a little concerned. I opened my eyes realizing that I had fallen asleep.
I started waving my hands dismissively so my mother could go away, but she didn't.
"You look sick and pale." She said while grabbing my arms and examining me from head to toe. "Seems like you lost some weight too! What's going on? Should I be concern? You know you can talk to me honey. Don't shut me out please," she pleaded as if I was in the same state as the time my grandmother passed away.
I sat back and covered both eyes with my arm thinking about that time my grandmother died. She had a stage 4 colon cancer. To my understanding, the cancer was operate-able, but once cut into she had a risk of letting the cancer spread. Knowing my grandmother, she didn't want to have the surgery, but her children pushed her anyways. Why couldn't they accept her decision and let her live? Instead, they shorten her life.
I was sixteen years old at that time. I was crushed, lost sight of reality, and fell deep into depression. I despised everyone around me. They took away the person that meant the most to me. Then I thought of my mother and how angry I was with her, but no matter how hard I tried pushing her away she never left my side. She tried to help me in any way she could. She was being very protective over me making sure I got all the therapy and medication I needed. That's how much my mother cared for me now imagine what she would do if she finds out Zoey is missing.
I clenched my jaw shut tight. Taking in a deep breath, I started to lie. "Mom I'm just stressed out. You know with school, studying for exams, and being in a band. I can't find any time to eat, and I'm just lacking some sleep. That's all."
I tried my best to sound convincing.
Watching her change position, she started to fold her arms. The expression on her face changed from sad as in I hope he's not thinking about suicide to concern as in I hope he's not on drugs. By the look of her, my acting worked, and I knew what was coming next.
She scolded me for two hours lecturing me about the importance of living, how sinful it is for me to be in this band because I was being exposed to drugs, sex, and alcohol, and how much my health is being affected. She begged me to quit the band, to concentrate on school, and to come back to church and sing for God. Sing to God? I didn't mind doing that; I actually thought that he was with my grandmother at every one of our performance, but I wasn't ready to come back to church and sing, not yet at least. There were too many negative memories there.
