I thought I knew you. I thought I knew you as well as I know myself. It'd always felt like we were one, one single mind connected in two bodies. Now I feel like I've been ripped in half. I am lost.
We used to tell each other everything. Even if we'd promised to keep a secret for someone, promised not to tell anyone, we'd tell each other. After all, you aren't just anyone. There wasn't anything I knew that you didn't and there wasn't anything you knew that I didn't...or so I thought.
I don't understand why you did it. I don't understand why you left. Where have you gone?
There's so many things I've been wanting to tell you; stupid and meaningless little insignificant things that only you'd listen to. I don't want to confide in anyone else, no one else cared like you did. It's been three weeks now, since u left, to me, it feels like a lifetime has flown by. I'm sure you have so much to tell me, so much to explain, so why can't you? just pick up the phone, please, you know my number. or even write a letter just like this one, although I won't be able to send it. I have no idea where you are, where you've gone. just send a sign please! just show me that you're safe.
Everyone at school misses you. The place seems so empty and lifeless without you. every class I go to, there's always an empty chair beside me. I sit down and wait a moment, staring at the door just to see if you'll come sneaking in, late as usual. I think to myself, you're never normally this late, then I'm cruelly knocked out from my daydream by Vanessa and her lot, asking me if I want to sit with them. I always decline their most gracious offer, I'd much rather sit alone. Well I'm not alone, I'm with you, with your books that are still handed out even though people know you're absent, with your empty chair that somehow is still filled with your presence.
I never understood what you saw in Vanessa, why you spoke to her, why you'd want to befriend her. I remember when we were in the lower years we used to laugh at how stupid and obnoxious she was. She was the class bully back then; fat, loud and didn't care about anything but attention.
I never liked the way she treated you, she pressured you into doing so many stupid things. You changed when you were with her. You got in trouble, you thought it was cool. It really wasn't. How your parents only recently found out I'll never know. I should have told them what you got up to. But I promised.
Is that why you left? Did you get yourself into some deep trouble? Was it at that party? Everyone knows there were dealers there and I overheard people saying the police turned up. Were you using? Did they catch you? Or worse, maybe your mum caught you.
I love your mum. She's like a mother I never had. I've been round your house most days to comfort her. Each time I ring the bell, I hear your mum dashing down the stairs and catapulting herself at the door. Her excited actions are quickly wiped away by the sheer look of disappointment on her face when she sees it's me, not you. She puts on a false smile whilst she boils the kettle. Can you blame her? Her baby girl has gone... Your house is insanely tidy now, especially your room. I've only seen it once since you left.
Your mum keeps it locked at all times, even when she goes in there. I stole a glimpse at the impeccably neat bedroom whilst I was walking up the stairs. Your mum was hoovering (again) and the cord was snagged in the door. just a glimpse was all I needed though. I saw your bed, that big lonesome empty bed, unsleeping in for weeks. I'm surprised it's not gathering dust but your mum would never allow that. Not with her manic cleaning phase she's going through. She says she wants to keep everything perfectly clean for when you return. I keep thinking to myself, no Lorraine IF se returns.
I saw a line of paired shoes along the far wall, your school pumps, sports trainers, biker boots and the newest edition...six inch jet black stilettos. You always despised high heels, you always said they were stupid. But there they stood, towering above the old shoes, worn by the old you. Only worn once to Vanessa's party. I don't want to imagine what you got up to in them.
Then I saw your curtains. They made me giggle, remembering just how much you hated them. You have to admit that you couldn't live with those fuchsia ones forever. You and your mum had such a big argument when she replaced them. I was sat downstairs, just listening, laughing to myself. They're just curtains.
Occasionally, I stay round long enough to see your dad when he comes in from work. He just smiles and plods off upstairs. Your mum and dad never seem to communicate anymore, they seem to live in opposite ends of the house. Your dad misses you dearly, I can tell. he's always been a man of few words but you can see by the look on his face. Glum. They way he also stares at the empty chair at the dinner table. Your mum still sets the table as if you were there.
She told me about what your dad called you - a dirty slut. I don't blame him really. You come rolling in at 3am drunk as a skunk, smelling of worse things than alcohol. You've been called so much worse so surely you couldn't have run away because of that. Your mum thinks that's the soul reason. She blames your dad. I think that's wrong though. You are the only one to blame. You need to see the monster you've turned into. If that means going away for a while and realising where you went wrong, then that's fair enough. As long as that all you're doing.
Hurry up and realise though. Everyone misses you so much. It's true what they say, "you don't realise what you've got until it's gone."
Please don't stay gone for long.
All the mistakes we've all made will be forgiven.
Just come home.
Come back.
I will love you no matter what.
You're my best friend!!
YOU ARE READING
Why did you leave?
Short StoryA letter written that won't ever be sent as the person who it's for has run off and her best friend wants her to come home and so does her family. Desperately...