Rachel Shore's Answers

1: Let it Begin

It has been 8 years since my brother disappeared. Every time I think I've moved on, I remember a small moment from the past and realize I haven't.

My best friend is the reason I have managed to get anywhere in life. I would probably still be living in an extremely messy house eating off of paper plates if she hadn't forced me to do something with my life.

She started by dragging me to college classes and signing me up for them. She found me a job because I had quit mine. If I missed a day of work or school she was at my door demanding an explanation. If I was sick she would take care of me. If I was depressed she would drag me where I was supposed to be that day. I don't know how our boss still has patience for us.

2 years ago I opened a theater with that friend. Her name is Kallen. It is pronounced K-lin. We named our theater Stars because many big name stars would be featured on the screens. At first it was really slow but it has since become really popular allowing us to hire more help.

The more time I spend at the theater the easier it is to forget what I lost. I didn't know any of my parents' family members because they hadn't even met them. I just wish I at least had some family to call my own. I am often a little jealous of Kallen's intact family but at least I get the stories. Her family invites me to holiday celebrations and since I usually have nothing better to do, I take them up on it.

...

My evening runs started as an attempt to become more fit, but as I have gotten better at it I have used it as a space to just process my own thoughts. I learned that healing is not a process achieved by hiding from grief but by addressing it and allowing myself to feel. My crazy theories are finally being defeated. Will did run away and that is what I will believe. At least someday that will make a little sense to me as an explanation. For now I spend most of my time convincing myself it's true.

I grabbed my running shoes, looking forward to beating my own records. I decided that the 4 mile river path would be a great choice because I always get exhausted near the end. This time I won't finish the trail walking. I will finish it running!

As I was passing the 2 mile mark, I heard someone crying. When I rounded the bend I saw a woman holding something. I slowed down out of curiosity. The shadows from the surrounding trees danced across her paper as the wind blew the leaves in a swirling pattern.

"Why did you run away?" She asked looking at the paper. "I thought you were happy"

This sounded way too familiar. I slowed down to a stop debating whether or not to talk to her. Looking up she decided for me.

"Hello" she said in a shaky voice.

"Hello. Are you ok?"

"I've been better."

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She handed me the paper she had been holding. I caught her eye. Her gray eyes were almost blue. They seemed to be pleading for an answer. I fixed my attention back to the note. It was old looking worn out note in a child's handwriting. It was a runaway note, oddly similar to my brothers. Almost all the same things were said with a few minor changes in the order and grammar structure.

When I finished reading the note, I looked up at her again.

Her lips trembled slightly as I handed her back the note. "He told me he was happy in my home. I have always wanted a son, but my little Timmy ran away. I only got to call him my son for 3 months. He told me he was happy."

My mind was spinning. This felt all too familiar. How could the same story happen to two people?

"When did this happen?"