Us Against The World

Chapter 2

I wake up the next morning to sunshine and the sound of birds singing. I walk to my dresser and carefully brush my hair. I look into the mirror and my eyes widen in horror. My necklace is no longer around my neck. I sprint back over to my bed and frantically search the sheets and under my pillows and blankets, but it's nowhere to be found. I bolt down the hallway looking for my mother. "Mom!"

"In here, babe!" my mother calls from the kitchen. With my hands pressed against my chest, I shuffle into the kitchen and lean over the counter. "Have you seen my necklace?" I ask almost too quickly. She frowns and shakes her head. "I just had it last night! I couldn't have lost it, mom!" I raise my voice and my mother shoots me a warning glare. I sigh and looked down. "It was the only thing daddy gave me of his." I nearly whispered. My mother just shrugged and finished making breakfast. As I ate, I rarely spoke. When I finished, I went straight to my room.

A normal child would go outside and play with their friends during the day or go to school; but all of my friends have been taken by the military base and my school was burned down three years ago.

I spend most of my time in my room, listening to a wireless radio, which only informs its listeners that yet another person has died for an unknown reason. This has been happening since I was a baby... it's all I know; it's nothing new.

My twelfth birthday is in a few days; but I'm not looking forward to it. Since it's only my mother and I living in our house, birthdays seem like just another day. It's never anything new; just another year older. I don't even get a cake or presents anymore. 

I always find myself wishing I had a sibling or my father, so I wouldn't feel so lonely all the time. My mother told me that my father died of a disease a few years after I was born. She said that nobody knew what it was, but everyone outside is coming down with it, and there's no cure. She explained that the people who come down with it end up taking their own lives before the disease can kill them itself.

I asked my mother about the middle aged men that barge into our house every few months, and she told me she doesn't know why; but I know she does.

I had only been allowed out if I was wearing a mask to cover my nose and mouth, but we ran out of them; and now I'm stuck inside for the remainder of my life. That's normal life for me: hearing of people dying, hiding from the military and staying inside. I would say this is worse than being dead.

***3 Days Later***

"Happy birthday, Farrah!" my mother called from down the hallway. I lazily stood from the bench in my bedroom and walked to the kitchen. Ignoring my mother's chant, I sat at the table and looked out the window. "Did you hear me? I said happy birthday!" my mother's voice softened as I looked at her. "Yes, thank you mum." I replied quietly. "Wow, I cannot believe my baby is already 12 years old!" I roll my eyes as my mother dances around the kitchen. "What's wrong? It's your birthday and I'm more excited than you are." my mother pouts and makes her way toward me. I look up at her and shrug. "Birthday's are a thing of the past. They don't mean much to me anymore." I confess and my mother frowns. "Now that's nonsense!" she places her hands on her hips and leans over me. She then smiles and holds out her hand. "Come with me. I know what'll cheer you up."

I take her hand and she leads me to her bedroom. I gape and hesitate to move forward. "What is it?" my mother asks as she looks down at me. I shake my head. "You just... you never let me near your room; let alone inside of it." my mother giggles and drags me forward. She sits me on the bed and begins to dig through her dresser drawer. When she finds what she had been looking for, she turns around and sits next to me. There is an old book in her hands and she lays it across her lap. "What's that?" I ask as I tilt my head. "An old family album. I started putting it together just before you were born..." she pauses. "and a little bit after." I stay silent and stare at the book that seems as if it hadn't been opened in years. A few moments pass by and the book remains unopened. "Are we gonna look at it?" I ask shyly and my mother shakes her head. My eyes broaden as she hands it to me. "Happy birthday." she whispers and kisses my temple. "But this is your-" "I've seen all the pictures in there hundreds of times. I've been waiting to give it to you." I smile and thank her before jumping off the bed and skipping to my room.

I slam the door behind me and my mother yells but I ignore it. I set the photo album on my desk and pull up a chair. I don't hesitate to pull the cover open immediately. The first photo is of my mother and father on their wedding day. They smiled as they kissed. The next few photos were of a man that I figured was my father. I noticed that he was wearing the necklace I had been given. I smiled and ran my finger over his smiling face. I flipped the page and found a photo of him wearing a mask, staring at my mother who had been holding me. I figured that because of the disease, he wasn't allowed to touch me. Poor daddy.

The very last photo in the book is of my father placing the necklace around my neck.

In every picture that was taken of my father, I saw that he was wearing the necklace. I figured that it had to have sentimental value to him; and that's why it does to me.

I have to find it.