"WHERE IN DA HECK'S NAME ARE YOU" I shouted throughout the house... nothing.
.....................
"LILIAN!!" I ran out of the house and into the neighborhood, calling her name over and over again before I circled around to my house again, I groaned and slumped on the couch, thinking what I should do. Mom's going to kill me for loosing the only daughter she'd got and the only antique vase she'd got... gaaaah!
Worst.
Day.
Ever.
After, about, an hour? A thought came to mind: Katy! She can help me! I ran a block down the street-I only stopped like, 10 times to catch my breath-to a nice blue-painted one-story building. (Now Katy's dad hates my guts so I really hope he doesn't answer). But alas! of course, fate had it written and wanted to watch me fail, so he answered. Glaring down at me, he wasted just enough time to ask "what do you want, boy?", I gulped "I just... wanted to know if your daughter is available... I-" "Katy is not available!" "Daddy! Who is it?" A female voice came from the inside, I perked up "she doesn't sound unavailable" I told him as Katy stepped into sight.
Katy and I have been friends since I first moved to New York, two lovely years ago.
Her long blonde hair made her sparkling blue eyes stand out.
"Oh, hey Peter" she smiled, her father grunted, I waved slightly. "What's up?" She asked as she padded out of her house, her dad closing the door behind her, looking through the window next to the door, probably planning ways to kill me if I harm her-even if it was just a scratch- in any way. "I need help finding my sister... she... just... disappeared" I told her, she nodded. "What a silly goose" she grinned, "Cmon! Let's go and find her!" She started forward, moving her legs a bit faster to start up a skip. Following behind her-which I probably looked like a lost puppy- we started our search.
After hours of searching, we found: an old tire, a crowbar, and a newspaper from the 1980's. In other words: nothing. At that point we were back at the house, rubbing our temples in frustration. It was that magical moment when my mom walked in from whatever errand she was running "Peter!" She called, I cursed, grabbing the remains of the vase and stuffing it under the couch. "Y-yeah mom!?" "Are you ready for your dentist appointment?!" I cursed again, Katy looked at me "I should probably go..." her hand was on mine for a split second, then she got up and left. I turned towards the door ever so slowly. "C-coming.." I muttered, walking slowly as to buy time. "Hurry up! What are you, a turtle?" We walked out the door and towards the car, beads of sweat starting to form upon my forehead. Suspiciously mom didn't even seem to notice she was forgetting about Lilian... what kinda mother is that?
YOU ARE READING
Dentistry
Horror15-year-old Peter Grant has 'dental phobia'. He's always been afraid of the dentist. With his 16th birthday only a week away... his mom is going to make him go to the dentist. (Made by me, ThatDidntHappen and Starfly237!)
