As time speeds up again, I open the door and take one last look over my shoulder at the devastation I created. At my sweet Gracie... My heart rips. And at Blake, who will finally be right. And then I look at the detectives, imagining the scene when it all spills out. That old, familiar panic wells up.
Mama falls.
They catch her.
And I run.
-
Stupid hot tears run down my face, and I wipe them away with my sleeve. I turn around to catch a quick last glance at the house, but I can barely see it through my blurry vision. Birds tweet happily in the trees and sun shines down on my back, a beautiful scenic day for the worse day of my life. Even worse than the day Ellen left me in Nebraska. I remember the feeling of complete emptyness at first. A black pit of nothing but coldness. Then the feeling of falling at the bottom of my stomach. Like someone falling in to my stomach, but they're trying to resist by clawing their way back up only to slip back down again, slicing my sides with nails of hate and dispare. I start to walk slowly backwards, before jogging, and when I hear Mama's cry of pain, I break out in to a run.
The barrier in my mind is breaking more and more, the wood from the dam snapping off and getting lost in the current. The boot is trying to break out from my ribs, kicking so hard against my torso I feel like it is threatening to come out my throat. I stop suddenly, and my legs sway as my eyes bulge, and I vomit all over the pavement. My legs stagger around for another couple of seconds, before regaining my balance.
"Hey!" I hear a small, shrill voice a hundred metres behind me. I instantly realise that its Gracie's, but I force myself not to turn around. Not to say that I'll miss you, and that I'll always remember and love you. Because I know that if I do, I won't be able to run.
"Come back Efan! Mama is fad!" Her voice is becoming quieter as I get further away, but I smile a little at her lisp. Fuck, I'm gonna miss that kid.
--------
I run for an hour. I keep forcing myself to run, dispite the burning in my lungs and the voice in my head that screams for me to stop, to stop and rest. The whole time I was running, I wasn't taking in the view that I was running past. I was concentrating on keeping my mentel dam from exploding, bringing out all the shit in my life that I had shoved inside it. I had been running for at least 1 hour and 15 minutes before my legs gave way, and my knees smashed down upon the pavement. I would yell out if my lungs would allow me, but the fire inside them still roars. My throat rubs roar as I begin to retch, but all that enters my mouth is bile.
I'm lying right outside a cafe, and the people inside begin to eye me, like I'm a dead fox against the side of the road. A vicious creature that has fought many battles against the evil of the world, only to die unloved, un-named, and unknown by any.
Yeah, I think. Wouldn't know what thats like.
Though I try my hardest to pick myself up off the ground, the weight of the events that have screwed me over today force me back down.
"Hey kid, you ok?" A waiter with scruffy blonde stubble stands over me, a concerned look in his eyes.
"Fine." I growl, finally managing to lift myself from the pavement. "Just taking a nap."
Crap. I've never been a good lier, but this is low, even for me.
The guy doesn't look at all convinced, but he shrugs it off and walks back inside. Jerk. Didn't even offer to help me up off the ground. I attepmt to disguise my swaying stagger with a perfect posture as I slowly make my way inside the cafe. Walking past people that act like nothing in the world has changed. Just sit there contently, drinking steamy cups of coffee, texting on their phones or writing on their laptops. The though of their normal lives inrage me. After I thought I had what they had. Then I remember what Ellen once said to me.
"Tsk tsk. Always wanting what you can't have."
Once an unamusing joke. Now, simply bitter words in the back of my throat that are swinging back and forth on my unviula. I realise this is no joke as I sprint/fall in to the mens toilets, and throw up bile again in the loo. Fuck it smells in here.
---------------
Hey guys!
Sorry its not a lot, but its all I could write at the moment.
This is a sequel to an unfinished story, named:
Dead to you
I loved this story so much, and I felt that the ending was unsatisfactary, so I had to write a sequel for it!
I own nothing writen by Lisa McMann, I guess this is just a Fan Fiction!
The children on the cover are missing children from the last century. I put them on the cover to raise awareness of their dissaperance, and don't loose hope that they are still out there!
Etan Patz: Went missing October 9th 1972, aged 6, declared legally dead in 2001. Case was reopened last year when Pedro Hernandez confessed to murder, although Etan's remains have never been found.
Johnny Gosch: Went missing September 5th 1982, aged 12. Has been missing 30 years, and has never been located.
Jacob Wetterling: Went missing October 22 1989, aged 11. Has been missing for 23 years, and has never been located. Was kidnapped by a gunman. The man thought to have been the gunman died in his home, but there was pornography of Jacob found within his home. His fate remains unknown.
They might all still be out there. Never give up.
