The Lost

Casey:

I hold my head in my palms. I feel something push at the door. I flick my head up. Garret looks through the gap. He's angry. His hands are covered in blood. I shake my head. He throws the knife onto the carpet. It stains into the cream and he starts to shout at me. I back away. I press against my bedroom door and slip behind it. I fumble with the lock but his fingers curl around the wood. He throws the door open and I run to my bed and crouch in the furthest corner from him. He couldn't of killed Tom. So what happened. Tears run down my cheeks as my body shakes and rises with my forced breaths. He crouches down and smiles into my eyes. I frown back, trying to keep my nerve. He shakes and slaps me hard across the face. I feel the bruise start to form.

"Clean that mess up!" He shouts at me with his hand pointing to where the knife was lying on the other side of the wall. I sniffle and draw my legs up. He storms from the room. I close my eyes and shake. The worst thing is not knowing. I slide off the edge with my hand rubbing the side of my head. The blood left a large puddle. What if that was Tom's blood. That will be yours soon. I block out the voice in my head and fall onto the floor. I pick up the knife between my thumb and first finger. I try not to touch any of the blood. I place it gently in the bathroom. I turn on the TV as I scrub at the floor.

"Boy of 16 was found on the streets this evening. He is in hospital and apparently not stable…" I turn the TV off quickly before I hear the rest. What if that was Tom.  I scrub at the floor, wearing down my knuckles. Tom… I never told him. Not really. I was never sure…. until now. I breathe out slowly. I walk back to the bathroom and wipe the blood of the knife with a wet towel. I watch the red blood wash away as the pure water rushes down and around the sink. I drop it on the side of the basin. I look up at my red eyes. My hair messy and un-even. Garret walks in. I turn my head around quickly. He kisses me on my cheek and smiles at me. I shiver. He then walks away. I close my eyes. Its been 1 month now. No sign. Nothing. He's not coming Casey. That’s what I tell myself every day. Un-yet I so want it to be true. I breathe and push my hair out of my eyes as I do so. I do a quick side smile as I try to cheer myself up. No point to living anyway. I close my eyes. I take a step. I feel my foot slip. I fly to the floor of the bathroom. My head hits the tiles hard. I yell out and grab the back of my head. Crap. So much for being composed. I start to stand again with shaking legs. I stumble to the door and walk past Garret. I collapse onto my bed crying.

Tom:

I walk down the street. I tread slowly and carefully on the snow. I hear the crunching under step. I smile at the satisfaction. It will be spring soon. I hate the cold. I'm cold enough as it is.  Tears still fall down my cheeks. The old ones freezing into small droplets on my chin and around my eyes. I stumble in the snow storm blinding me and my path. I see the frozen frame of my old house. I run my hand over the wood. New and fresh tears pour down my cheeks. Their all just ashes now. I grab one of the pieces of wood. I swing my leg onto the one below. I pull myself up slowly. My foot slips on the ice. I start to drop but I hold on with the tips of my fingers. I get another, more stable foothold. I breathe deeply. My tears blow off my face in the cold wind. My face stings and is numb. I squint. I climb up to my old bedroom. I stand on the wood which still stands. I shake in the cold. I run my finger over the wood. I clutch my fingers into the wet and rotting surface. Tears fall onto my hands. I watch them blow off. I stand up slowly. I look out at Casey's house. I see her rubbing blood off the carpet. I watch her perfect face. Her hair and eyes. I brush my hair from my eyes. I suck in a deep breath. I look from left to right. I smile and tears fall from my eyes. I scream at the choice I have to make. I clutch my hair and pull. I stamp down with my foot. It slips. I start to fall. I hit some wood at the bottom. Pain rushes through my body. I lie still. I just want to sleep. No pain or choice. But I want  to be able to wake up and to feel. I try to move my arm. Pain shoots through my body. I sit up. I look towards the light from her window washing over the snow. I stand up. I look around at what used to be my life.

I sit on a low wall. I draw her eyes in the snow. Lifeless. I brush the snow off the wall. I look back down the road. Sunlight pours over the snowy landscape. I hug my shoulders. The snow has already started to melt. I shiver. I look in through Casey's window. A tear starts to form in my eyes. I look away. I walk back to the warehouse. I need to wait. For the snow to clear. Then I die. The tear slips down. I look at the winter and spring sun rise. I smile to myself.

Casey: 1 week later:

I look into the mirror in my bedroom. My eyes stare back. I look deep inside it. I search for answers. Something to stop me from killing myself. I keep the bag by my side. The knife in the bag hidden. I look deep into my eyes. Tears well in the corners. I shake. I don't feel much these days. I stroke my face. I feel a slow pounding in my head. I trace the bruises on my cheeks. I sit down on the bed behind me. I stare out over the garden. The snow has melted. Its almost the time. I find it hard to wake up now. Its hard to wake up when you want to die. I stare up at the ceiling. Just white and plain. I hug my shoulders. A tear rolls down the corner of my eye. I breathe deeply. My life gone. The bleep of the telephone sounds. I hear Garret answering. I smile. I guess this is the time. Something makes him take me to the beach. I'm guessing this does. I don't hide. I just lie on the bed. I keep my eyes fixed on the ceiling above my head. My head starts to become heavy. Time is running out. Garret runs through the door. I turn my head slowly to face him. Another tear rolls down my cheek. My life is ending.

"Your mum is coming. Get in the Van! NOW!" He shouts at me. I feel his hand grip around my wrist. I feel myself being tugged up. So he's taking me for his own. I laugh slowly and dryly. I keep my eyes focused on the ceiling. I'm thrown in the van. I hear him screaming down the phone to his gang. I shake. I sit carefully in the back of the truck. I stare down at the bare floor. The cold emptiness comforts me. I'm going to die. Or Tom is. No more tears fall. I smile slowly at the thought of the pain ending. I hear other people climb in the front of the truck. Time to visit the beach.