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It was not even a week after Amy disappeared and Mom wanted to have a 'memorial' for her. Every time Dad or I called it a funeral, Mom would lecture us. Mom decided it was best to have it at our house.
I woke up, it was a Tuesday and school would be starting in a week or so.
I washed off the makeup and changed clothes. I braided my hair and put on a black dress. Since it was happening in the house I put on some white socks.
I walked downstairs and found mom and dad sitting in the living room.
"Why are you dressed like it's a funeral?" Mom asked with disgust in her voice.
"Well sorry I don't know what to wear to a memorial service." I rolled my eyes and walked towards the kitchen.
"Did you not just hear what I said, go change your clothes. This isn't a funeral." Mom lectured at me.
I really wanted to tell her off. Like thanks mom you're not the only one grieving here. But I kept my mouth closed and went to change clothes.
I put on a nice gray shirt and black shorts. Keeping my white socks on.
As I got done changing there was a firm knock on the front door. I walked downstairs to see who it was.
It was my Uncle Rob and Regan.
Regan immediately walked towards me.
"You guys couldn't go one day without shit hitting the fan, huh?" Regan spoke quietly to me, "This is all your fault. If you wouldn't have left the house, I could continue to be partying it up in college." She glared at me, then walked to her room.
I was shocked, my own sister putting the blame on me. Maybe she was just stating the facts. She probably isn't the only one who thinks this.
I started to walk back to my room when Uncle Rob stopped me.
"Hey kid, how are you doing?" He asked leaning on the rail. I just shrugged my shoulders. "I got you something, it's in my car so I'll have to sneak out and give it to you. You'll love it."
"Thanks, just leave it in front of my door." I started to walk back up the stairs again, then he put his hand on my shoulder.
"I just want you to know, I don't think it's your fault. The only person who has the blame is the person who took her." He smiled gently at me.
"Thanks." I tear fell from my eye, I quickly wiped it away, then went to my room.
I just laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling till i heard a firm knock on my door.
"Uncle Rob, I told you-" I was cut off by Stan being there.
"He told me to bring it to you," I took the box out of his hands and sat it on my bed.
"You can come in." I giggled as he just stood in front of the door. He finally came in and started organizing. He started putting clothes in the laundry basket, and hanging stuff up. I just watched him.
"You don't have to watch me, open your present or something." He spoke.
I pulled the present close to me and I started to tear open the box. Inside there were two cameras. One being a professional looking black one. And the other being a white one that you just put in film and it processes the picture automatically.
I took the white camera, out in some film, and took a picture of Stan. The flash was bright and it made him turn quickly.
The photo came out and I started to fan it. Then I gazed at the picture. It was perfect.
"Let me see." Stan said. I held it to my chest.
"Over my dead body. I'm keeping this forever." I smiled at him.
"If you're gonna be that way then let me take one of you." He snatched the camera from me, then sat it on my desk.
"What are you doing?"
"You took a sneaky one, so I'll take a sneaky one." He spoke with a smirk. I rolled my eyes at him, and messed around with the professional black camera. It was kinda difficult to operate.
Then there was shouting from downstairs.
"GOD GREG, OUR KID IS NOT DEAD. SHE IS ALIVE, JUST TEMPORARILY MISSING." It was moms voice.
We went silent.
"Honey, just take a breath please-" That was dad.
"GREG, AND ITS ALL Y/N'S FAULT. IF SHE WOULD'VE JUST STAYED HOME INSTEAD OF HOEING AROUND TOWN." Mom said that about her own daughter.
My breath hitched, and I felt a pain in my stomach, then I just kept my head down.
"LISTEN TO YOURSELF, YOU'RE SAYING THIS ABOUT YOUR OWN DAUGHTER." That was Rob. At least he's on my side.
"SHE IS NOT MY DAUGHTER, SHE MAY BE YOURS GREG. I ONLY HAVE ONE DAUGHTER UPSTAIRS AND SHE IS YET TO DISAPPOINT ME IN SUCH A WAY THAT Y/N HAS." Then there was sobbing. I tear fell down my cheek. If that's the game you want to play Jennifer, then game on.
"Y/n, do you wanna talk about this?" Stan asked.
"I'd really rather not." I spoke quietly.
"Holding in your feelings is unhealthy."
"I don't have a healthy lifestyle."
He slowly walked towards me, and and kissed my cheek gently.
"I'm kinda tired," Stan spoke as he laid next to me. He even pulled up my sheets and pretended to be asleep.
"You know my light pink sheets go great with you're complexion." I joked.
"You're damn right." He said as he engulfed me in his clothes, they smelled lovely. "Hey y/n, I'm sorry you're mom is psycho."
"I'm sorry you have to deal with me."
"It's alright, because if I didn't. I wouldn't get to do this." Then there was a bright light, and my eyes jolted open.
He took the picture.
I sat up, "Is this some type of war now?" I smiled at him. He fanned the picture then started at it in awe.
"I wanna see it." I begged.
"OvEr My DeAd BoDy. I'm KeEpInG tHiS fOrEvEr." He spoke mocking me.
"Oh whatever."
"But this is seriously a national treasure that I'm putting in some sort of frame. You can have a sneak peak of it." He flashed me the picture and I loved it.
"STAN, ITS TIME TO GO." What I assume was Stan's Mother yelling at him. He hesitantly got up.
"See you later man." I kissed his cheek.
"See ya," He shut the door gently behind him. Leaving me there, lovestruck.
