Alienated

ONE

I've always been taught that honesty is something I should always value, a virtue of sorts. So why is it so hard to believe that maybe, just maybe I am not lying? My sister was a little different but she was intelligent. Brilliant even. She was not crazy. I'm not crazy. Our father thinks different.

A day after Willow Charleston went missing, someone broke into our home while my little sister was alone, and took her. My poppa was off at work and our two other sisters were off at college and I... I was supposed to be home with her, but I wasn't. It was just me and her, girls night watchin' our Friday night movie marathon, so you already know we were getting high and catching a case of the munchies, so I went to the gas station just a couple blocks away. While I was putting our favorite snacks on the counter and flirting with the new cashier about which is better; Mnt. Dew or Code Red, she was struggling to get away from a predator determined to take her.

There was no sign of struggle in the house though, with the Harry Potter title screen still on the tv waitin' for me to get back and press play. I slid down the front door until I was on my ass when I'd searched every room in the house. Her phone was still left on the coffee table, which confused me most of all. The bitch never goes anywhere without that thing.

The police have done their definition of helping but no leads have been made.

About 6 months after Rosie's disappearance, my father sent me to a hospital. One made for the wealthy crazies of Alabama, which I'm sure he paid a pretty penny to get me in. It's not terribly hard to get in; I've heard they've made families put mortgages on their houses to pay the admission fee; although my Poppa would never have to do that.

It happened on a night full of lightning that lit up the whole sky and thunder that boomed so loud your brain would shake in your skull. My poppa and I were arguing about my sister, about how her, or shall I say our journal he found in her room was deliriant, crazy, too much for his close mindness to handle. He was mad because I was never "on his side." My sisters and I were always "teaming up" on him.

Truth is, my dad has always been a hard ass, always pushing us four to do our best, make a living. He's never really been a nice man, especially after Mama bailed, but I always thought it was for the best. Until he did the unspeakable.

"That's it Aster." He strided up to me quickly, grabbing my face and squeezing, "no more talk of this nonsense. I heard enough of it from your sister and I'm tired of hearing it from you." His eyes were crazy, his pupils dilated so much the irises weren't visible. I was trying to convince him to let me go through Rosie's room one more time. Since she's disappeared, he's had a padlock on her door.

He shoved me back, but not hard enough for me to fall. I rubbed my face and continued to stand there in the middle of the living room, tears spilling from my eyes. The tv was on the news channel and some woman was showing a clip of the man, now known to be Randle "The Riddler" Ranchero from before. My dad grabbed the remote from my hand and turned it up.

"Randy "The Riddler" Ranchero, also known as the man who fooled America into believing that aliens and the government were teaming together to kidnap young girls is-" he muted it and looked back to me.

"See?" He boomed, "That old man admitted that what he said was a publicity stunt. Why can't you get that through your skull? Yes many Americans believe it's the government's doing, but aliens? Really Aster? I knew letting you read Rosie's journal would be too much for you to handle but nooo, you insisted on reading it! She made all that damn stuff up Aster! She heard what that man said and started coming up with shit!"

His hands tugged at his long hair as he paced back and forth, his breaths loud and short. The gray hairs becoming clearly visible in the last few months. He stopped then, his hard, dark eyes running along the ground until they reached my soft blue ones, something I've always been happy to inherit from my momma. "I didn't want to have to do this Aster."

"What do you mean Poppa?" I may have been 20 but I've always called him this. All my sisters have.

I have three sisters. Zinnia, Amaryllis, and Rosie. And then there's me, Aster. All of us were named after flowers, something Momma loved tending to in our early days. A greenhouse still sits out back of our ranch home, but it's been overgrown with weeds for two years now since my father fired our housemaid.

"I've called Royce hospital."

My eyes went wide and I stumbled back, my legs hitting the couch. Royce Hospital? He'd threatened it a few times but that place was meant for psychos, not me. I hadn't been hit, but my body ached like it had. My heart hurt the most. My breathing began to quicken as my aching heart raced, tears making it hard for me see. This was the perfect opportunity my father was waiting for to blindside me. Out of nowhere a needle pushed into my neck. I fought sleep so hard as I stumbled downwards, my fathers arms catching me. I looked up with tears in my eyes, only to see an emotionless man. A man I trusted and called a father. A man who taught me honesty was everything. Is this what I get for trusting him? I'm the reason he even knows about Rosie's journal, my journal, and now everything's been ruined.

A day after Willow Charleston went missing, someone broke into our home while my little sister was alone, and took her.

They were supposed to take me.