They thirst

Prologue

3 years earlier: 15 years old

I grew up on the rough side of New Jersey in a cold water house. Its not the ideal place to grow up in.

It's hard and rough.

The house was run down and if it rains it rained into my room, ruining my art.

Mostly, everyone around here either lived in big flats or in a run down house like mine.

My parents didn't earn a lot of money, both of them lost their jobs. But when they did earn money some how, they spent it on drinking.

Drugs on every corner, prostitutes, mugging, break ins and robberies. Often people were stabbed or mugged just for a few dollars.

I basically lived inside a shell, home to school and some days to the park with Mikey. My parents basically lived at the pub down our street.

I didn't really have any friends, except my younger brother, Micheal. Mikey for short. He is 3 younger than me. He was the exact opposite of me, always happy and positive. Me on the other hand, just wanted a place to fit in in this world or some days get swallowed by the Earth.

Teenaged things, you know?

He was my only friend. He was my best friend.

I've been a loner since he disappeared on my 15th birthday.

It was a normal day, normal morning.

Just like every other single day.

As usual, no one remembered my birthday, except Mikey.

We went to school and came back, like every other day.

We went to the park to get out of the house so that I could smoke cigarettes. Wasn't really as if my parents cared, they were always fighting or drunk but it's a little guilty pleasure I like to keep to myself.

The park was quite as usual and no one was around.

The park's grass wasn't cut in years, weeds grow all over the place, like a small forest of unwanted plants. All the jungle gyms and rides were rusted or broken from terrible maintenance from the government. Nobody really cared enough to fix it anyhow.

Mikey would still swing on the broken swings while I just observed. I was too cool to play with him or talk more than a few words to him in a day. He was always the most talkative one, I just listened or blocked him out.

He had a bottle half full instead of half empty view on life. For him, at least there was a swing set. He didn't mind the screws sticking out or see anything wrong in that matter.

"Come on Gerard! Let's go on the roundabout. We can pretend to be aliens coming down to earth to enslave all mankind to feed us chocolates!"

That was the last thing I heard him say to me and I just bluntly shook my head and puffed another cloud of smoke with no care in the world, ignoring my little brother. He's just a stupid kid, right?

I finished the cigarette and stepped on the ashes.

That was the last time I saw him.

When I looked back up, he was gone.

"Mikey?" I called, "MIKEY!?" I scream from the top of my lungs.

I searched everywhere.

No sign of him.

Nothing...

He just disappeared into thin air.

That was the last time I spoke his name. I could never bring myself to say it again, it just hurt too much.

The worst part was to return home and tell my parents I lost him. They weren't forgiving, especially after a few drinks.

We had search parties for days, weeks and even a few months, but there was no sign of him. They just gave up, but I never stopped looking for him. Eventually, I just stopped looking as hard as when I started.

My mom never forgave me, she still hasn't since this day and she probably won't ever. She left the one night to search and never returned home. I would get an occasional phone call from her, just that she could speak to my dad about him.

She blamed me and she still blames me.

She's probably glad I'm also going to disappear.

It will always be my fault, nothing can change that.

I just wish I could've disappeared with him.