I'm Sorry (Not Really)

Chapter Sixteen

You ran,

I hid.

Who won?

Neither,

In the end.

~A. F.

          Maria and I barely spoke after that, she led me to the door with a small bag of cookies and said goodbye. As far as I was concerned I'd be fine if we never spoke again. When I left it was only a little after school let out but I didn't think I could handle any pestering from my mother or anyone else so I wandered around town for a few hours before finally heading back.

           When I stepped onto the property I noticed my dad's car was home, he is very rarely home, often on "business trips", though we all know that means sleeping with his secretary. As soon as I stepped into the home (using the main door instead of the side kitchen door for once) I found that the maids were running around like rodents, scurrying too and fro. My mother's unintelligible shouts could be heard echoing through the house, with each shout another maid jumped and ran.

          What was more unsettling than my father being home was the fact that the maids were silent. There was no hushed whispering to spread gossip or soft giggles about something or another, they were completely silent.

          I watched them for a few moments before pulling one aside. "What's going on?" The girl looked young and almost dropped the vase she was carrying in her surprise.

          "The young mistress, Taylor has gone missing.." The maid didn't look at my face and stared down at the floor, twirling a lock of her long blonde hair.

         I shook my head in disbelief, "No she hasn't, I'm sure she's just snuck out."

          The maid practically shook with fear, "N-no.. she left a note saying she was running away.." I let the maid scurry off and continue with whatever useless task she had been performing.

          There's no way Taylor ran away, no way.

          Then I remembered all her paintings, she hated to talk about them. She always dodged talking about them in conversations, I thought it was because she was shy but now that I'm thinking about it... she never did tell me where she went that night all fancily dressed. And I imagine that is the sort of thing you'd wear to an art show. So maybe it isn't all that implausible. Maybe she hates this place as much as me, well maybe not as much. I pondered all this as I jogged up the stairs, following my mom's shouts. When I found her she was in Taylor's room and sobbing on her bed, crying and yelling about how her 'baby wouldn't do this' and 'she must have been kidnapped'. Though I realize it's probably all just for face.

          "Mom? Mom, what's wrong?" I asked, sounding tentative, though I knew what had happened.

          "T-Taylor!!" She practically screamed in response, sobbing even more and collapsing face down into the pillows on Taylor's bed. Deep down I hoped she'd suffocate herself in those pillows from all her sobbing. 

          "Taylor ran away," my father said from the corner of Taylor's room. It was the first time I noticed he was in the room, which was saying something since my father is a tall man. He was in one of his usual fancy suits and didn't seem like he cared at all about Taylor's disappearance. Though by the way he stuck to the shadows and didn't immediately announce his presence in some way when I entered the room, I knew this was getting to him more than he'd like to admit.

          "Did she leave a note?" My father gestured with his hand to her desk. I walked over, trying not to trip on the clothing strewn on the floor, which was proving a difficult task.

          The desk, which had once been littered with different paints, brushes, and papers was now cleared except for a brightly colored piece of paper taped to the top signed neatly in Taylor's handwriting. The note was simple and short, I had a feeling I'd find another one for me from her in my room given the fact she most likely left out my window.

          Glancing behind me, I made sure my mother was still throwing her tantrum and saw that my father was now occupied 'calming' her down. My hand traced over the note to the edge of it and found the piece of tape that kept it still, slowly, while watching my parents, I peeled off the tape, one by one, I undid all four sides of the tape and slipped the note into my jacket. It made no sense to tape the note down unless she had written something on the back of it, most likely hoping I found it and not one of our parents.

          Once the opportunity arose I slipped out of Taylor's room and to my own. As expected, there was another brightly colored note in my room, this one placed on my nightstand and signed with the same handwriting as the first note.

"Thomas! Darling brother I didn't get to know very well but still love just the same, well as you may or may not know by now (I'm betting you do tho) I've run away! There are many reasons, some of which I'm sure we agree on but the main one was, my art. I never told you but that day I snuck out, I was going to an art showing of my art! Can you believe it? I'm not sure I do still. Anyway, mom hated me painting but that's the only thing I can think to do with my life. So I've run away to be able to do what I love. I know you enjoyed my artwork just as much as I did (okay maybe not as much but still) so I left you a little something under your bed. You have my number so call me anytime!

PS: Don't worry about where I'm staying, I emptied one of mom and dad's many bank accounts so I'm all set for a few years. And yes, I have a fake ID so I can get pretty much anything I need without any suspicion. 

PPS: Did you find my little joke to you?

-Your favorite half-sister, Taylor"

          I couldn't help but laugh slightly, it's just like Taylor to make a joke of this. I pulled out the first note left for our parents and flipped it over.

"I hope you join me soon! Xoxo"

          After reading that I couldn't help but burst into laughter.