ABDUCTED

The Meadow

Chapter 18, Page 644

6 days till Christmas

Sunday, December 18, 2017

(Jays pov)
I walked around her room admiring all her little trinkets and decorations. She had numerous posters depicting various supernatural creatures creeping in the night. She also had band posters lined along a string of lights. I brushed a sculpture of a bat, looking up at the poster of vampire holding an axe-shaped guitar in front of a coffin with a fanged smile. "She got that for her fourteenth birthday. I think an old boyfriend got it for her," Bianca said from behind me. "She kept it because it was cool," she added with a smile. I nodded. "It's pretty cool. It's definitely her," I replied. Bianca chuckled. Demi let out a breathily laugh. "The girl's got creepy taste, but it is her," Demi commented with a sigh. It felt strange being in her room without her. I reminisced about our time the party—our first time getting know each other. I hadn't really met anyone I had wanted to spill my guts to like that. Not since Bianca and the cyberstalker. Not until her.

A sense of guilt washed over me. I hadn't recalled if I had truly shown my appreciation for her. She was patient with me—always supportive. She had this way of redirecting my mind; negative thoughts rarely crossed my mind while we were deep in conversation. She'd ask about my childhood and favorite memories and I'd tell her about most things and she'd tell me about her's and we'd laugh and she'd compliment me and then immediately talk about her's favorite kill from a horror movie she had previously seen. She talked like there was no tomorrow and she'd listen like whatever I was saying was the most important topic to her. She was perfect and yet I drove her to this.

Bianca's phone rang, startling both Demi and I. "It's Craig. I'll take this outside. You guys keep looking for the rehab box," she instructed, exiting the room. Silence filled the room as I moved toward her wardrobe, opening it as I crouched down. "This is so fucked. I mean how did we not notice she had relapsed," Demi said breaking the silence. I turned to look at her, trying to find the right words to answer her. "There's supposed to be signs, so..." she continued, eyes glued to the floor. I could see little droplets of tears falling to her feet, that long red hair consuming her. I stood up, slowly walking toward her as I took a deep breath. Demi began to full on sob as I pulled her head into my chest, holding her as she gripped the fabric of my shirt. I stroked her hair, resting my chin on top of her head. "I can take care of this. Why don't you and Bi go back to the hospital and stay with her until I get there?" I said after a while, lowering my voice to a gentle hum. She sniffled a bit as she pulled away, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Demi nodded without saying a word, turning to walk out the door.

18.645~

I watched Demi and Bianca climb in to Daryl's car, waving as they backed out of the driveway, headed for the hospital. In the distance, I could hear the muffled sounds of items falling to the ground and shelves being moved. I stood frozen by the window, thinking of her in that hospital bed. I remembered seeing as Bianca and Ciggy rushed to her side, poking at her in hopes of waking her up. I remembered seeing her lifeless body laying on the bathroom floor, her soul leaving this plain. I couldn't do anything but drop to my knees as Bianca turned her on her side, shoving her fingers down her throat. I watched her puke this white, foamy liquid, gasping for air as her eyes rolled back into her head. She looked at me just as the paramedics lifted her into the ambulance. She looked at me with shame—like it was her fault this had happened, but...it was mine. That was clearer than day itself. Once again, I had ruined the life of someone I held dear. Me.

I hung my head low as I slowly walked toward her wardrobe, closing the doors. I stared at the ground with my hands still on the doors, unable to move. A sigh escaped my lips as I dropped to my knees, noticing her backpack leaning against the wall. I crawled over to it, leaning my back against the wall as I clutched the backpack like a teddy bear. I noticed a note sticking partially out of one of the pockets, instinctively grabbing it. I immediately stood up, rereading the note. "How long had she had it? Why did she keep it?" I thought to myself. Curiosity clouded my shame as I slipped the note into my pocket, returning her backpack to its place on the floor. I began looking around her room, no longer searching for the so called "rehab box."