Winchester High| 16+

Chapter 13: Missing

When I awoke, all my past ailments seemed to fade away. The tension in my shoulder and the aberration on my throat became a nothing when I opened my eyes. The sun filled my entire room, allowing me to see every detail from beyond my bedsheets. I winced my numb eyes awake and squeezed my core to lift my healed body in an upright position.

When I came into the kitchen I was not greeted with hello, but a strange sight of a woman who'd fallen apart.

"Mom?" I crept over to the bar which held the cascaded sequence of robe fabric and ratty hair. She turns around to display her morning face as a warm greeting, but I could see past the grin.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing..." She waved and flailed around her robed tentacles, her arms gripping a glass of wine.

A silence stilled the air until she said, "It's your brother...."

"It's okay, he'll be back." I only wanted to comfort her, say whatever thing I didn't truly believe in, to bring her back to the birthday clown I'd loved. She gave a pessimistic affirmation to what I said, responding, but not agreeing.

"He's been aggressive lately. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was me, maybe it was your father, his girlfriend, football season, and the pressures of everything. But he's someone different now." She said trying to lay flat some of her levitating hair. She walked over to the other side of the bar revealing a tiny package of white dust. Of course. The eyes.

"And it was this. This stupid... powder that took my son away--hurt my other son." She clenched her teeth as she said powder. I wanted to run into her, cry into her, and remind her of how much of a good job she does. I wanted to show her how many lamps were in the room right now, and how much they cost. I wanted to tell her to turn around and enjoy the reflectiveness of the fridge that she found so beautiful. She built this, but she wouldn't acknowledge herself. Instead, I went over to her hands, which cupped the base of the wine glass and said, "He'll come back. And he'll be himself. He'll come back with that grin, and go out to play basketball with Jere. We might fight, but he'll be here, and we will be a family." I reassured, without knowing if this was the future we were deserving of.

"Thank you." She said kindly, following with, "Now get to school." She yawned and stretched her arms. I felt her coming back to life, getting ready to get on top of things. I thought I did a pretty good job at being sensitive. She took the package and headed to the bathroom to flush.

I was sat at the base of my apartment. I had on a beanie to prevent the freezing breeze that would've have ran through my hair. Carlos came around the corner, eventually, and waved from behind the glass. Memories of last night, good ones, flickered behind my eyes. I happily got in the car.

"Good morning!" He said flipping some buttons on his car like a spaceship. I didn't know what any of these buttons were, but I started feeling hot air kiss my face. He was in a pretty fantastic mood, as per usual.

"Hey." I said flatly, I couldn't match his enthusiasm. I was happy to be in the car, here and now, happy to have a ride, but while living in the context which was yesterday, the idea on unwavering joy seemed fictional. I was holding onto my seat, waiting for the next thing to disrupt my life. We didn't talk much during the ride, he only asked how I slept, to which I said really, really, well. He wasn't the type to force conversation if you weren't up to it.

We pulled up the school in the unsaid 'VIP' parking lot which was at the front entrance. I wasn't late, so I got to see the hoard of people flowing into the school at their own speeds. I couldn't think of a reason why, but I found myself digging through the crowd with my eyes, searching for a glimpse of Malik. The sight of the line that slit through his edge up, and the band of bullies and wafted around him. But none of that was there. Just an unmoving crowd forming an outline where my brother should be. I was beginning to frighten.

We got out of the car.

"Thank you." I said, for the ride.

"Are you okay?" He responded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just hoping for a normal school day." I said, knowing later I'd eat my words. No conversation followed, and we simply joined the crowd.

As I bumped shoulders with the fishes that swam beside me—not a rudeness, but a Winchester tradition—one of them spoke to me.

"Yo!" A familiar voice called next to me. I looked at the source of the voice once we got out of the thicker bit of the crowd. It was Jere, Malik's best friend. I know the occasion for us speaking had to be special and most likely involving Malik's latest disappearance.

"Have you heard from Malik?" He said, making my lung sink a little. The fact that his best friend in the whole world (of the Bronx) had no clue where he was, proved to be terrifying. I thought of an alternative version myself who didn't care for appearance frantically sticking up missing person posters on the lockers.

"No, not a word. I thought he be with you, or one of his other friends"
"No..." He dimmed and looked down at his laces, then looked back to me, "Tell me if he shows up, kay?" He said before parting into a separate crowd that swam towards the western wing of the school.

When I got to my locker, the air that lacked Nico's presence, felt barren.  I held my phone and watched myself through the void that was my phone's screen. Should I call? I asked myself in a thousand times, but the fear I'd get no response was to daunting.