What Mandy Busyman Did

Finding Mandy

Jenna

I figured it was time to take action. Seeing my mom either folded on the couch or talking worriedly to Mr. and Mrs. Busyman really struck something in me. I wanted my mom back. I wanted everyone back.

The whole Mandy thing made everyone crazy, mainly because nobody could believe Mandy was bullied, and secondly, how could a syrupy girl like Mandy disappear? How could she leave everyone, even if it meant taking a hit to her fragile situation. And although I feel a little boorish for saying this, it's all in good- ah -not fun, but. . .

I give up.

Listen, I just need to find Mandy. She's making all of her "fans" freak out and her poor parents simply can not stop crying and turning their faces red from rage and disgust and everything in between.

If there was a ever a crazy thing I did, it was decide to save a girl I hadn't given two craps about before this whole incident. Before this whole incident, I had smarts. I had my full subconscious. I had been in my right mind. Now I'm probably making the biggest mistake of my life. It could tear-down everything I had ever known. But I did it anyway, for my mom.

And everyone else.

*__*

I took out a piece of paper a dulled down pencil and began writing a game plan. I knew I had to think of some clever things, though I didn't really want to. My whole outlook on Mandy changed when Taylor suddenly cared deeply about her and her foolproof beauty, leaving me in the dust. I then suddenly hated her and everything about her. Her looks, her status, everything I had mentioned before was coming into play as I poured all of my hate out on this weak plan. I didn't actually care, but I might as well also make it for Taylor. I'm sure he'd appreciate it too.

Ah, Taylor.

Um, that was awkward.

Anyway, I kept gushing out senseless ideas onto that paper, none of them helping, none of them heartfelt. I spent about one hour lounging on my bed, the mattress rustling each time I situated. I now had a headache and outside looked glum and dull. The clouds had turned gray and the sky didn't glimmer as if it too were depressed and stuck in a never-ending hole of pitch black. A hole they couldn't climb out of.

My eyelids became heavy with exhaustion, though I hadn't been up for long. I decided to go downstairs and check the time. I pulled up my jeans, ( which now managed to crawl down my waist), and opened the creaky door as the knob squeaked under my hand. I looked out into the hallway. Emptiness. The whole house felt dead and discomforting, like a blanket of sadness that washes over you and drowns you in tears. With the emptiness of it all and the unlighted rooms, I felt extremely alone. I went down the stairs slowly, as not to disturb my mom, who was again passed out on the couch. Her whole body looked hurt and pained as she breathed rockily through her mouth. I silently tiptoed to the kitchen to check the microwave clock. It read: 4:30. Only 4:30? It felt entirely later than that. I scowled out of disbelief and trudged back up the stairs, now not caring on how much noise I made. 

My mom shook as if she just went to sleep. 

My mom's a light sleeper. Therefore I had to rush upstairs so she wouldn't realize it was me. I radically "climbed" up the stairs, an idea popping in my head. 

Mandy could be easy to catch. She couldn't have run far, she was Mandy. Only one way to find her. Backup. 

I picked up my phone weakly from my bedside table, a thousand disquiet thoughts zooming in my head. I dialed Taylor's number, my hands shaking. I had never been involved in anything like this; this was new and stimulating. I brought the phone up to my ear. If Taylor was making a big deal out of this, he was going to help me. since he cared so much, I thought. I shook the thought away; I couldn't let little things get in the way of me phoning him. Just a few beats later, he picked up, his husky voice sounding into my ear.