Thanksgiving

The Entrance

I grasp my phone in my hand. Thank god I charged this on the way, I'm gong to dodge a lot of people today. I thought to myself. I held my phone tighter. A lady comes up to me, she looks about 50. Maybe it's an aunt, I shrugged. "Oh, is this your rebel daughter?" The wrinkly lady asks. My frail mother nods. She looks so worn, but how did she change just by that one question. I only made one mistake. Just one can change your life. I go and sit on an empty couch and I lay down on it. I take my phone and look at my texts. No one wants to talk to me. Plus all of my family hate me. Even my mother. I never thought that someone that I cared for so much could have so much hate.

I munch on some chips while everyone is eating their feast. They don't want to feed me they don't even want to talk to me. No one. I stroll away from the table. My grandma sheds a tear when she looked at me. I'm not a bad person. I walk into the kitchen and stroll past the fridge. I freeze in my footsteps. It's a news article. About how I was arrested. I slip down the wall quickly and plop my butt on the floor and bury my face in my hands. I try not to cry, but my conscience isn't that strong so i cried. It's honestly difficult to control my emotions,but so what I cry easily, big deal. Its not like anyone (but my mother) in my family cares about me. It's a terrible feeling when your grandma doesn't want to knit you a sweater for the holidays, but every other young person in this family gets one. All because I am so stupid. I hit my head against a door. Stupid. This will hopefully be over soon. Probably not.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. I hoped it would be a god that would take me away out of this pain. Like the person would even help. It was my brother, Drake. But wait, he is in his uniform. He left in his uniform, he went......away, to war I am assuming.

"Hi Drake, I thought you were MIA?" I asked teary eyed looking at his built figure. I thought of how all my friends had a crush on him, but he wanted to date the collage girls from his collage. Not from Searlake, Utah. Not from Searlake Middle School. Not from the graduating class of 2019. My friends were really upset about that. Then I realized that they weren't my friends anymore.

"Wendy, I'm not MIA. It's complicated." He says standing up and walking away. I oddly never saw him for the rest of the day. I wanted to talk to him until the end of time. Tell him that everything that they say about me is false. I just want him to understand. But I couldn't find him. Where did he go that was more important than his little sister? That remained a mystery to me.

We get home and I have to kick some protesters and journalists off the lawn. Gosh were they nosy. It seemed like I was Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian. Someone who people care about. But life can't be that way. I am a teen fugitive who got off from bail.

"Honey we need to talk." my mom calls me over in a lightly concerned tone.

"Yeah mom?" I ask sitting at the kitchen table right next to her.

"When you were crying in the kitchen," she breathes for a second obviously trying not to cry,"well you started to talk to the wall. Who were you talking to?" She finishes and sighs.

"The wall? No I was talking to Drake. He was in his uniform. He isn't MIA anymore." I say truthfully looking directly at my weak mother.

"Well the thing is, Drake told you that he wasn't MIA anymore, which is true,but..." my mom trails off in her mind as if she is trying to find a nicer way to say it.

"Mom what are you trying to say." I say in a high pitched voice.

"Wendy,sweetie-"

"What happened to Drake"

"Honey,well see"

"Mom stop sugar coating it!" I exclaim

"We got a letter."

"Full sentences, Mother."

"You may be shocked"

"I want to know what happened to Drake mom"

"Wendy, Drake is dead."

I stop thinking, I am spinning. Words try to come out of my mouth, but none come out. I get light-headed. Everything is dark.