Typical.

Chapter 11: Search

I stared at the door, my nose touching the wood, for what seemed like forever. Finally, I gained the courage to knock. No answer. I pursed my lips and rang the doorbell until the door swung open. An angry looking woman in a robe and with bags under her eyes opened the door. She looked like she smiled slightly, then quickly turned it into a frown.

“Do you know what time it is?” said Mrs. Tanner.

I honestly didn’t know what to say. “Mrs. Tanner,” seemed like a good start. “Can I come in?”

“No,” she snapped.

I furrowed my brow, confused. She’d always let me in. Not to sound narcissistic or anything, but Evie’s mom loved me. She always loved me. She thought I was a good kid. She, as Evie told me at one point, wished I was her kid. So why was she so angry at me? Did I do something?

She tried to slam the door, but impulsively, I stopped it.

“Liam, I want you to leave.”

“Mrs. Tanner, with all due respect, why? I just want to talk to Evie.”

She pursed her lips and squinted her eyes, as if examining me. I probably looked like shit. I got no sleep at all, hadn’t taken a shower in probably over 48 hours, and was emotionally spent.

“Evie’s not here. She’s at Noah’s.”

My eyes widened with shock. She was still with him? But then again… was she lying to me? What if Evie was asleep upstairs in her room, unaware that I was downstairs, yearning to just see her?

And then I did something that was so unlike me that I surprised both myself and Mrs. Tanner. Under normal circumstances, I would have nodded, apologized for the inconvenience and thank her for her time, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance. My hand was still on the door, and I pushed in, past Mrs. Tanner, and I ran up the stairs to Evie’s room, despite Mrs. Tanner’s yells. I pushed the door open to see a devastating sight.

Mrs. Tanner was telling the truth. Evie wasn’t there. That wasn’t the devastating part, though. The devastating part was that Evie had obviously been here. And left a trail of destruction in her wake.

Her bed was unmade and the sheets were strewn out across the floor. Dirty clothes were everywhere and I noticed that they weren’t hers. They were my clothes. I didn’t notice she’d stolen so many of my tees and sweaters throughout the years. My Rolling Stones tee, my old green sweater…

And the worst part was on the other end of the room. On easels, on the floor… there were canvases. Paintings. I could vaguely see what they were before Evie had destroyed them. There was a sunset, clouds, two hands holding. And they all had been smeared with black paint then slashed by a palate knife, both of which lied down on the floor. There was one painting, though, that remained untouched. This one was on an easel.

A hastily painted city skyline in dark colors was in the background. And the weirdest thing was… I noticed it. It looked familiar. How old was this? Had I seen it before? By walking towards it, I concurred that they can’t be old at all. Some of the paint was still gleaming because it was wet. Coming towards it, I saw it more clearly.

The sky was a dark navy, the buildings blended together in one black horizon, the moon shone in the sky. The moon wasn’t just any moon, but an eclipse. The dark circle was surrounded by an angelic glow casting over the cityscape. The streets were bustling with people in dark colors—maroons, navies, greens. And then I turned my attention to the main part of the painting—a beautiful silhouette.  On the left, there was the dark outline of a man holding hands with a young boy. The young boy was holding hands with a young girl and the young girl was holding hands with a woman on the right. The man and woman were looking at each other.