It was the start of April, specifically April 24, 2014. It was a cold and dreary day even the trees seemed to shrink away from the crisp air of the early morning bustling through their branches. It was the kind of day that made you envious of the kids who got to ride on buses or with their parents. This wasn't fair, I was only ten and my legs hurt. It didn't help that my blouse was especially thin that day and no matter how much I tucked it into my trousers the cold air would still find a way to weasel its way up into my shirt to tickle my unprotected skin. Still, I trudged on home, my legs dragging heavily on the gravelly ground underneath me. In my hand was a plastic bag whipping in the wind, as if fighting me— trying to break free of my grasp–. Much to it's dismay, I was on a mission. Get Mom her favorite canned peaches and the Jelly fruit that seemed to disappear almost instantly whenever she was around. Mother never smiled as often as she did before Father left us. He had died in a car crash five years ago— it was sad. I was sad. My father was..a great man— and I still miss him to this day. I had finally reached our washed and worn-out yellow house.
Everything looked the same to me, same old worn-down fence, same old broken porch light, and same old dingy doorbell, but for some unfathomable reason, I couldn't calm my anxiety as I made my way to the door. Shaking my free hand lazily and steadying my breathing. I placed my stubby fingers around the door nob and twisted it once, it was unlocked. —Click. Crrreak—. The door swung open freely now, but I was greeted by an eerie silence. The house had an uncomfortable stillness about it which made my beating heart and footsteps seem that much louder. Each step of my worn-out shoes was met with the occasional creaking of the floorboards. As my breathing quickened, so did my pace. I hastily searched the small house for any sign of my mother. Any sign that she was here. I haphazardly busted into her room, hesitating only for a moment, knowing I wasn't to go in but my childish rationale failed me as I found myself stomping in. My teary eyes glanced around the room wildly. I lunged onto her bed and tore off the neat sheets. Mother never made her bed. I had spent hours tearing through my mother's room in a silent tantrum to myself. My breathing was now shallow as anxiety once again gripped me, its hold merciless. Suddenly, there was an assault of noise, warring with my psyche and somehow my hands had found their way to my ears in a desperate attempt to block out the screaming and constant incoherent voices in my head that now rang louder in my ears as if they were in the room with me.
'Why was I alone,' They'd ask. 'what had I done to deserve loneliness?' They probed, but the only thought that rang clear was that, this... wasn't fair and that I was only ten. 'This wasn't... fair.' It pressed. 'This.... isn't fair. This is not.... It's not fair..! IT'S NOT FAIR!' The voice protested.
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Hi, end of chapter 1.
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Where is Laine?
Mystery / ThrillerAn orphaned boy lives with his aunt on his mother's side of the family after years of bouncing around the adoption system. His auntie and her family, as benevolent as they are, exhibit very unsettling behavior after the disappearance of their daught...
