This Place We Call Home (discontinued)

Chapter 1

Now don't freak out. Don't go crazy and think I'm a crazy kid with problems. It's not worth it. All it's going to do is make YOU look like the nut job. If I were you, I would just finish hearing the story, then go off and decide if this is crazy. I'll go back, let's see, the last day I had before midnight struck, when I disappeared like all the kids on their thirteenth birthdays. I think that's a good place....

July sixth, 2012. I had one last day before tomorrow, my birthday, began. Most girls would be excited. But it's hard to be excited on your last day of full life. It REALLY isn't reassuring to know that ANYTHING could happen to me. I'm not even sure where I would go. I could go anywhere.

It all happens so fast. One moment, your mom or dad is holding your hand, and as soon as midnight strikes, that very second... boom. You’re gone. As if you never even existed.

I sat on the faded rug in the living room, staring out the old, beaten window that led out to the porch. The small TV in the corner buzzed to life, as it did sometimes when the wind played with the satellite dish. Yes, our house was old. We had old, beaten doors, with an old, beaten TV, with old, beaten rug that sat in the middle of an old, beaten room. You could call our lifestyle old and beaten.

I tried to push my blonde streaked bangs out of my eyes, but it only resulted with more hair falling down. Life hates me now. I thought to myself. Everything just couldn't work as planned.

Suddenly, my little brother ran into the room, his pudgy face filled with concern.   

"Mally, Mally!" He cried, hugging his small fingers around my body in a hug "Mommy said you’re going somewhere. Where are you going?"

I looked down at his sweet pudgy face. How was I suppose to tell him?

"I'm not really sure, Timtim." I said, hugging his small body. I wasn't really sure. What type of answer is that? 

My mother walks into the living room, her eyes red from crying. I couldn't imagine being in her position. In my heart, I love my mom, and my dad, more than anyone or anything. My mother, with her sweet smile and delicious food. My dad, with his fancy tools, he can build anything.

“Mallory, can we see you, in the kitchen." My mom said a hint of sadness in her voice. She's looked twenty years older, with wrinkles covering her face with concern. And was that gray hair?

My heart sank, knowing immediately what it was. They wanted to say goodbye. Final goodbyes. I sighed. If only I wasn't going to be thirteen. Why can't I be nine? Or ten? Why did life have to be so complicated? Why was I asking so many questions?

I slowly creep up to the kitchen. My mom and dad were still talking. They didn't expect me to come in so fast. I hid behind the door, pressing my ear against it until my ear hurt.

"Ryan! This is entirely my fault!" I heard my mother cry. 

I pressed my ear harder as they began to whisper.

"If I didn't suggest moving here before Mallory was born, then we wouldn't be in this mess!" I could feel my mom holding back tears.

"It is not your fault. Even if you move out of this place, it still sticks with you. Even before Mallory was born, this still would have happened."

I tried not to gasp. Suddenly, my face hits the tile floor as my dad whisks open the door.

"Hi, little miss eavesdropper." he said, lifting me off the floor. My mom chuckled.

"Don't worry. I was the same way." they both lift me up by my arms and plop me down on the chair, like they used to do when I was Tommy's age. My dad looks down at me, his eyes still lined with tears.

"Sorry you had to hear that." he said. "I should have been quieter." rolling my eyes, I look him in the eyes. "No. You should be sad to be losing someone as great as me." I yelled, pointing my thumb at myself. I had to do something, anything, to make my parents laugh. I half-succeeded. My mom laughed, my dad just smiled.

Now, I'm a bit embarrassed to put this on paper, but I guess if you want the story how it was, then I have to put it. I put my hands over heart, and sobbed.

All the tears I had ever kept inside of me all day, all week, all month, I let them free. I buried my face in my dad’s warm jacket. It was all too soon. My mother rubbed my shoulder, which helped a little bit. I glanced at my watch. 11:55. Five more minutes with my parents, my brother. Us. As a family. Together.

There had been one thing nagging at me this whole time. "Why are there parents here if all the teens disappear?" I asked, putting my hand over theirs. My dad sighed.

"They made our same mistake. They moved here, every single one of them."

"Dad, you couldn't ever have known. No one would have told you. Mom, it wasn't a mistake. Please don't say that." I cried, hugging my parents harder. "There is nothing you could have done."

I looked at my parents, and gave them the last hug, the warmest hug of all time. I wanted to stay this way, forever. I hugged them as tight as I could.

Think of Timmy. Think of sun. Think of life. I told myself. Suddenly I realized these were my last seconds. Mom and dad let go of me, knowing in their hearts it was time.

I stared at them, right in the center of their eyes. The last words I heard my parents say, in unison, was. "I love you." The clock stroked midnight, and I disappeared in front of my parents tearful eyes. "I love you, too." I whispered. But I was too late for them to hear.