Gone (Ianthony)

One Month, One Week, Five Days, and Seven Hours Before

Anthony:    

I tried for days to convince my mom to travel to San Diego with me to see my dad. 

Part of me did it out of pure selfishness; I needed someone else there so it would be less awkward and intimidating. And so I would have backup if he went insane and tried to hurt me or something.

But I also knew deep down inside, she wanted to see him. Maybe it was just so she could call him a dick and spit in his face, or maybe she really cared enough to check up on him. She almost broke down and agreed multiple times, but eventually, I realized I was just wasting time.

And besides, it was an eight hour car ride from Sacramento to San Diego, and I could use the thinking time to myself. Lately, I had been so busy trying to put myself back together - as in reconnecting with friends and focusing on personal happiness - I had had very limited time to think about the whole Missing Best Friend situation.

The first few hours of the drive, as I stared at the passing road in front of me, I thought up about a billion different scenarios of finding him:

The last clue is an address. I drive an hour to it, in some little Californian town I had never heard of, and as I pull into the driveway, I see him sitting on the back porch, his head buried in a novel he's read a hundred times. And he looks up and recognizes my car, and as I stare at him through the window, he slowly sets the book down and stands up, and I'm just completely frozen, unable to move even though I want to run outside and touch him to make sure he's even really there. And then eventually he walks down the steps and I open the car door, and then we meet halfway and then he's in my arms and I'm crying on his shoulder and he's smiling into my chest and he's laughing because he never thought this moment would come and I don't stop crying until we get home.

The last clue is a phone number. I call it, and when he answers, it's his voice. And I cry into the phone and he tells me where he is and I go find him, and when I do he immediately runs up and kisses me, and I'm so happy to see him I don't even reject, and then we're both crying and I'm holding him so tight and he tells me he's so sorry for leaving and he never will again.

The last clue is a set of coordinates. I follow them, and end up in a cemetery in the middle of Virginia. I walk around the grass for a while, until I see his gravestone, and I break down and realize this was all for nothing and I would never see him again and-    

My car started beeping then, and I realized I was low on gas.

And I realized I should have gone to a different gas station while I was in the process of picking out a flavor of Gatorade and looked over to see a young-ish boy, maybe twelve or thirteen, staring straight at me.

I tried to ignore him and grabbed a bottle, but as soon as I turned around, there he was.

"Hi," he said sort of shyly, a bag of Funyns in his hand.

"Hello," I responded, smiling weakly.

"You're the Smosh guy, right?"

I felt my smile fade and hoped he didn't notice. I used to love meeting fans. It was one of my favorite things in the whole world. But after we made that video saying Smosh was a thing of the past, it became more of a chore than a pleasure.

"One of them, yes." 

"Hi! I used to love your videos. Well, I still do actually. Why don't you make them anymore?"

I bit my lip. I wished I had gone to a different gas station.

"Kind of a long story, but we just didn't have time anymore. Wish we still were, though."

The boy smiled slightly. I wondered where his parents were.

"Oh, good. There's this rumor going around that the other guy died or something."

He must have noticed my obvious "oh shit" look, because he quickly raised his eyebrows and let his mouth drop open.

"It's not true, is it?!" 

"No no no no no," I said, shaking my head. "Of course not. Just a rumor."

"Where is he?"

"Home." I tried to smile again. "It was great meeting you, but I really should get going."

As soon as I got in the car, I laid my head on the steering wheel and cried for a good twenty minutes before driving again.