gone

15

"they what?!" I shrieked, jumping up out of my chair, placing my hands in my hair and tugging viscously at the roots. "dad!" I yelled, pacing back and fourth across the large living room.

"kendall, I'm sorry, but I don't know what you are talking about. the police said that they would inform us right away if they got any leads that had to do with you or grace, and we never got a call." he told me, getting up and walking over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"grace!" I yelled, looking up into my fathers eyes like a crazed maniac.

he remained silent.

"grace. where is grace!" I yelled, making sure I was clear this time, as if he hadn't heard me. I shrugged my fathers hands off of my shoulders, becoming angered that they weren't telling me about where grace was.

"honey, they still haven't found grace." my mother told me, walking over to me, pulling me into a tight hug.

I didn't hug back though, I just stood there stilly. my best friend- my sister- was gone, and she could possibly be dead. I honestly don't know how I could move on with my life without her.

"mom, I have to go look for her.." I said, looking up at my mother with tears forming in my eyes.

"kendall, you just got back. you are not going out there alone and risking your life again!" my father raised his voice at me- something he rarely ever does.

"then send the police with me!" I said raising my voice and beginning to cry.

"kendall, I say no, and that's final." he told me, shaking his head. normally I wouldn't argue like this, but the consequences weren't as serious as losing my best friend for good.

"daddy no! you can't do this! you have to let me go look for her!" I begged, sounding like a little child. but in all honestly didn't care if they thought I was acting like a child, or even having a mental breakdown. "KENDALL, I SAID NO AND I MEAN IT. GO TO YOUR ROOM, NOW. NO ARGUMENTS." he yelled at me, pointing his finger in the direction of the stairs. my mother didn't even stand try to argue, she stayed there and placed a hand on his chest in attempt to calm him down while whispering soothing things into his ear. well then. I see where I stand.

as I trudged up the stairs, I became even more upset. my father had always had a low tolerance level, but he had never lashed out and yelled at me like he did there. as I got to the third floor, I nearly broke down then and there, but I knew I couldn't. I didn't want to seem weak in front of my family. but instead of going to my room, I walked into lijahs old room.

when he died, nobody could bare to even go into his room. the bed was still unmade & everything. it remained untouvched, except for the few trophies, pictures, and little things like that that I had held late at night when I missed him a lot and couldn't sleep.

I walk in and closed the door, locking it. I make my way over to his bed, and lay down on it. something that I haven't done in over three years. it still smelled like him- which was always some kind of fancy cologne. but I'm not complaining, he smelled good.

I buried my face into his pillow and let it all out. I cried, I yelled, and I kicked. I was upset, angry, and sad. any feeling but happy is what I was feeling at the moment. I was angry because kara wasn't happy that lijah was back, that my best friend was gone and I couldn't do anything about it, and that I don't know when I'll see lijah again. after about a half and hour of procrastinating what to do about the whole situation I was in, I finally got up and went to my room to try and get some sleep. before I left I walked over to the window, double checking that it was locked, and walked out of the room.