Hello! I am soo sorry I haven't written in forever, but I'm here now, with inspiration! So, enjoy!
Warnings: Lots of swearing, and implied bullying
No one had seen Zoe Murphy since seventh grade. The lanky girl with indigo streaks in her hair, and the hundreds of friends simply disappeared when she was thirteen. Of course, like whenever anything major happened, there were rumors.
Maybe Zoe had killed herself.
Maybe Zoe moved.
Maybe the new, quiet kid was really her.
But Evan didn't believe any of theories. Zoe and he were the same English class, and she always seemed so happy, talking to her friends. She never spoke to Evan, but she smiled to him once in a while, and gave him a sad look when he had to present infront of the class. But she didn't make fun of him like the other kids in the class. That's when Evan developed a crush on the girl. But he never managed to speak to her before she disappeared.
The Murphy's still lived in town; Cynthia always volunteered for every possible event at Evan's school. The school Zoe would have been going to if she still went to school.
The new kid was a guy. Sure, his hair was long, but he liked it that way. His voice was a little higher pitched, but not feminine. Maybe he did resemble Zoe a little, with his tall, lanky hair and long hair and angular face, but he was a guy. He wasn't Zoe. Zoe just... disappeared.
It'd been nearing three years since Zoe disappeared, but still no one knew where she was. All that had happened was that the new kid had a name, Connor Owen Murphy. He claimed Zoe was his sister, but hated talking about her. A new rumor came around.
Maybe Connor killed her.
Connor became the subject of bullying, and he hid in the back of every class. Evan pitied him, but if he did kill Zoe...
"Connor!" Cynthia yelled up the stairs, resulting in an annoyed groan from the lanky boy. He'd been feeling like shit for the last four days. Well, he'd been feeling like shit for much longer, but it was especially awfully recently. He sat up in his bed, wincing as he noticed his shortness of breath and the pain in his ribs. He ignored it, and continued to get dressed in skinny jeans and an oversized hoodie. He needed as much breathing room as possible. Especially today.
He walked down the stairs, wincing with every breath. As soon as he got to the table, he dropped his head to the table in exhaustion, and caught a whiff of his hair. He hadn't washed it in at least a week. It smelled like pure, unadulterated teenage grease. Cynthia placed a plate in front of him.
"Connor, sweetie, your hair is a mess. At least brush it." Connor huffed in response, and Cynthia sighed in defeat. She took her seat between her husband and her son. Larry read the newspaper intently, not having looked up at Connor since he came in. Cynthia attempted conversation. "So, how's school?" She asked, taking a small bite of her waffle. Connor's head immediately shot up, and he stood not long after. He slammed his hands angrily on the table.
"Oh, just fan-fucking-tastic. I'm the dead kid's brother!" He yelled. Larry looked up lazily, sighing disapprovingly at Connor.
"Zoe-" he started.
"Fuck you!" Connor yelled before grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder and running out of the house and slammed the door behind him. A picture of Larry, Cynthia, and Zoe all smiling happily next to the door fell, and the glass inside the frame cracked.
