Lost

Chapter One

Ten years ago, on my sixth birthday, my father disappeared. No, he didn't leave. Leaving would imply suitcases and empty drawers, and late birthday cards with ten dollar bills stuffed inside. Leaving would imply he was unhappy with Mom and I, or that he found a new love elsewhere. None of that was true. He also didn't die, because we would've heard about it. There was no car crash, no body, no police mingling about the scene of brutal murder. It all happened very quietly.
On my sixth birthday, my father took me to the park, one of my favorite places to go at the time. It was a lonely little park in the middle of nowhere, with a running trail and misty green pond surrounded by pure trees. We were at the edge of the pond feeding ducks, when I heard the jingle of the ice cream truck in the parking lot over the hill. when I begged my dad to get me a ice cream, he laughed, handed me a few bills, and sent me after the truck.
That was the last time I saw him. Later, when the police searched the area, they discovered his shoes at the edge of the water. But nothing else. They sent divers into the pond, but it was barely ten feet, down they found nothing but branches and mud at the bottom. My father had disappeared without a trace.
For months afterward, I had a recurring nightmare about standing at the top of the hill, looking down and seeing my father walk into the pond. As the water closed over his head, I could hear the ice truck singing in the background. Not long after my father's disappearance, Mom moved us far away, to a tiny little town in the middle of Louisiana. Mom said wanted to start over but I always knew, deep down, she was running from something. It would be another ten years before I discovered what.

In less then twenty four hours, I'll be sixteen years old. Sweet sixteen. It has a magical ring to it. Sixteen is supposed to be the age when girls become princess and fall in love, and go to dances and proms. Countless stories and movies have been about the wonderful age, when a girl finds true love and stars shine for her and the handsome prince carries her off into the sunset.
I didn't think it would be that way for me.
The morning before my birthday. I woke up, showered, and rummaged through my dresser for something to wear. Normally, I'd just grab whatever clean-ish thing thats on the floor, but today was special. Today was the day Edward Moore would finally notice me. I wanted to look perfect. Of course, my wardrobe is sadly lacking in the popular-attire department. While other girls spend hours in front of their closets crying, "What should I wear?" My drawers basically hold three things:clothes from Goodwill, hand me downs, and overalls.
I wish we weren't so poor. I know pig farming isn't the most glamorous of jobs, but you'd think mom could afford to buy me at least one pair of nice jeans. I glared at my horrible wardrobe in disgust. Oh well I guess Edward will have to be wowed with my natural grace and charm, if I don't make an idiot of myself in front of him.
I finally slipped into some old skinny jeans that are ripped at the knees from falling, then found a red long sleeve Plaid button up and finally my torn black vans. Before dragging a brush through my dark brown hair. my hair is straight and very frizzy, and was doing that stupid floating thing again, where it looked like I'd jammed my finger up a electrical outlet. Yanking it into a ponytail, I went downstairs.
Micheal,
My stepdad, sat at the table, drinking coffee and flipping through the town's newspaper, which reads more like a high school gossip column than a real news source.
"Five legged calf born on Patterson's farm," the front page screamed; you get the idea. Gabriel, my four year old half brother, say on his dad's lap, eating a Pop Tart and getting crumbs all over Michael's overalls. He clutched Poppy, his favorite stuffed bunny, in one arm and occasionally tried to feed it his breakfast; the bunny's face was full of crumbs and fruit jelly.
Gabe is a good kid. He has his father's straight blonde hair, and like me, he inherited Mom's big brown eyes. He's the type of kid old ladies stop in awe at, and total strangers smile and wave at him from across the street. Mom and Micheal give him there full attention all the time but they don't to soil him, thank goodness.
"Where's Mom?" I asked as I entered the kitchen. Opening the cabinet doors, I scoured the boxes of cereal for the one I liked, wondering if Mom remembered to pick up. Of course she hadn't. Nothing but fiber squares and fruit loops for Gabe. Was it to hard to remember Cheerios?
Michael Ignored me and sipped his coffee. Gabe Chewed his Pop-tart and sneezed on his fathers arm. I slammed the cabinet doors with a satisfying bang.
"Where's Mom?" I asked l, a bit louder this time. Michael jerked his head up and finally looked at me. His lazy brown eyes, like those of a cow, registered mild surprise.
"Oh, hey, Brook," he said calmly. "I didn't hear you come in. What did you say?"
I sighed and repeated my question for the third time. "She had a meeting with some of the ladies at church," Michael murmured, turning back to his paper. "She won't be back for a few hours, so you'll have to take the bus."
I always took the bus. I just wanted to remind Mom that she was supposed to take me to get a learner's permit this weekend. With Michael, it was hopeless . I could tell him something fourteen different times, and he'd forget it the moment I left the room. It wasn't that Michael was mean or malicious, or even stupid. He adored Gabe, and Mom seemed truly happy with him. But, every time I spoke to my stepdad, he would look at me with genuine surprise, as if he'd forgotten I lived here, too.
I grabbed a bagel from the top of the fridge and chewed it sullenly, keeping and eye on the clock. Delgado, our German shepherd, wandered in and out his big head on my knee. I scratched him behind his ears and he groaned. At least the dog appreciated me.
Michael stood, gently placing Gabe back in his seat. "All right, big guy," he said, kissing the top of Gabe's head. "Dad has to fix the bathroom sink, so you sit there and be good. When I'm done, we'll go feed the pigs, okay?"
"Kay," Gabe chirped, swinging his chubby legs. "Poppy wants to see if Ms. Daisy had her babies yet." Michael's smile was so disgustingly proud, I felt nauseous. "Hey Michael," I said as he turned to go, "bet you can't guess what tomorrow is."
"Mmm?" He didn't even turn around. "I don't know, Brook. If you have plans for tomorrow, talk to your mother." He snapped his fingers, and Delgado immediately left me to follow him. Their footsteps faded the stairs, and I was alone with my half brother.
Gabe kicked his feet, regarding me in that solemn way of his "I know," he announced softly, putting his Pop-Tart on the table. "Tomorrow's your birthday, isn't it? Poppy told me, and I remembered."
"Yeah," I whispered, turning and lobbying the bagel into the trash can. It hit the wall with a thump and dropped inside, leaving a greasy smear on the paint. I smirked and decided to leave it. "Poppy says to tell you happy early birthday."
"Tell Poppy thanks." I ruffled Gabe's hair as I left the kitchen, my mood completely soured. I knew it. Mom and Michael would completely forgot my birthday tomorrow. I wouldn't get a card, or cake or even a "happy birthday" From anyone. Except my kid brother's stupid stuffed rabbit. How pathetic was that?
Back in my room, I grabbed books, homework, gym clothes, and the iPod I'd spent a year saving for, despite Michael disdain of those "useless, brain-numbing gadgets." In true hick fashion, my stepdad dislikes and distrusts anything that could make life easier. Cellphones? No way, we've got a perfectly good landline. Video games? They're the devil's tools, turning kids into delinquents and serial killers. I've begged Mom over and over to buy me a laptop for school, but Michael insists that if his ancient, clunky PC is good enough for him, It's good enough for the family. Never mind that Dial-up takes flipping forever! I mean, who uses dial-up anymore? Yeah no one.
I checked my watch and swore. The buss would arrive shortly, and I had a good ten minute walk to the main road. Looking out the window, I saw the sky and heavy with rain, so I grabbed a jacket, as well. And, not for the first time, I wished we lived closer to town.
I swear, when I get a license and a car, I am never coming back to this place.
"Brookie?" Gabe hovered in the doorway, clutching his rabbit under his chin. His brown eyes regarding me somberly.
"Can I go with you today?"
"What?" Shrugging into my jacket, I gazed around for my backpack. "No, Gabe. I'm going to school now. Big kids school, no rug rats allowed."
I turned away, only to feel two small arms wrap themselves around my leg. Putting my hand against the wall to avoid falling, I glared down at my brother. Gabe clung on to me hard, his face tilted up to mine, his jaw set. "Please?" he begged. "I'll be good, I promise. Take me with you? Just for today?"
With a sigh, I bent down and picked him up "what's up, squirt?" I asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Mom would need to cut his hair soon;it was starting to look like the birds nest. "You're awfully clingy this morning. What's going on?"
"Scared," Gabe whispered, burying his face in my neck.
"You're scared?"
He shook his head. "Poppy's scared."
"What's poppy scared of?"
"The man in the closet"
I felt a small chill slide up my back. Sometimes, Gabe was so quit and serious, it was hard to remember he was only four. He still had childish fears of monsters under his bed and the bogeyman in his closet. In Gabe's world, stuffed animals spoke to him, invisible men waved to him from the bushes, and scary creatures tapped long nails against his bedroom window. He rarely went to Mom or Michael with stories of monsters and the bogeymen; from the time he was old enough to walk, he always came to me.
I sighed, knowing he wanted me to go upstairs and check, to reassure him that nothing lurked in the closet or under his bed. I kept a flashlight on his dresser for that very reason.
Outside, lightning flickered, and thunder rumbled in the distance. I winced. My walk to the bus was not going to be pleasant.
Dammit, I don't have time for this.
Gabe pulled back and looked at me, eyes pleading. I sighed again. "Fine," I muttered, putting him down. "Let's go check for monsters."
He followed me silently up the stairs, watching anxiously as I grabbed the flashlight and got down on my knees, shining it under the bed. "No monsters here, either. Think you'll be alright now?"
He nodded and gave me a faint smile. I started to close the door when I noticed a strange gray hat in the corner. It was domed on top, with a circular rim and red band around the base: a bowler hat.
Weird. Why would that be there?
As I straightened and started to turn around, something moved out of the corner of my eye. I caught a glimpse of a figure hiding behind Gabe's bedroom door, It's pale eyes watching me through the crack. I jerked my head around, but of course there was nothing there.
Jeez, now Gabe's got me seeing things.
A thunderous boom directly overhead made me jump, and fat drops plonked against the windowpanes. Rushing past Gabe, I burst out of the house and sprinted down the driveway.