The Evolution of a Drowning Butterfly

Chapter Twelve

I cautiously opened the door, expecting yelling and anger. What I heard was unusual, almost scary even: silence.

"Hello?" I asked loudly, "Anyone home?"

No answer. I walked through the entire house, expecting to find at least one warm body.

"They are probably out looking for me," I thought to calm my mind.

I checked my phone for the billions of messages that were bound to be there.

But there were none. No voicemails. No texts.

My mind raced through possibilities and crushed me with an anxiety attack.

"Car wreck. They got hit. Oh, God. Claire, Jordan. What if they are all gone? Am I all alone? I can't be all alone. Please," I thought, tears welling in my eyes.

Before Dad died, I would've never jumped to a conclusion like that. But now, I knew that anything could happen. No one was invincible.

I tried just laying on my bed and letting the whirr of my fan drown out the vile ruminations.

It didn't work. The air turned thick, and I could feel the pressure of anxiety claw its way up my throat. Just as I was about to go into another full blown anxiety attack, the front door burst open and laughter chorused its way into my bedroom. I took a breath of relief, but my relief was quickly replaced with anger. Had no one even noticed me storm out of the building? My blood boiled as I roared out of my room in the direction of the chortling.

I just stood there in front of them, astonished. They looked at me, startled and confused.

"You had no idea where I was. Did you even try to look for me?" I practically yelled at them.

"We knew you wouldn't have gone far off," Stephen said, rolling his eyes.

"You didn't even try. I could've run away. I could've been kidnapped. You didn't even try my cell!"

"You are old enough to take care of yourself," my mother said.

"Like I've been doing my whole life?" I stared her down, "You didn't call. You didn't text. I thought... I thought something might've happened. Something bad. I thought there was another car wreck," I said, grief written across my face.

"Oh. Honey. God, I wasn't even thinking about that. I didn't mean to make you worry about us," she said.

"I wasn't worried about you," I spit out, "I was worried about Jordan and Claire. You don't think. You don't care. And this is just more proof of why this pregnancy should never have happened."

I stormed off.

And then the sun set.