Page 2 of Vanish (Book One)

Chapter 2: One Big Happy Family

  There was nothing I could do, if it was my house, I could have protested. This house was theirs; the intruder was me. We drove down a long, winding road covered on both sides with forest—another traumatizing factor. They were all the same to me now; I might as well live at the crime scene. How could she think I would be okay with this? Everything about my new life, everything around me haunted me.

  My mother was always bringing different men around me. I was certain he would last just as long as the others. Sometimes I thought the length of her relationships was to prove to me that my father was nothing. Only someone she fooled around with for a few weeks and forgot soon after. I asked about him all the time. I needed to know about the man who had a part in my existence. That was too much to ask of her, as were a lot of things.

  I started my own search, a few weeks before Grace's disappearance—I couldn’t call it anything else. They never found her body, and I couldn’t give up hope. I hoped that I would find her someday, and she would absolve my conscience. The search for my father turned up nothing. I needed a name. I thought maybe on my birth certificate, which was nowhere to be found.

  We pulled up to the house; it was the only house around. The white siding was stained and covered in vines. The red shutters made the house almost presentable.

  Before all of this, I could have been happy with the change aside from none of my friends being around. Now that fact didn’t matter, and I was still miserable. I’d always wanted a family; as far back as I can remember I wished for my mother to be happy. So why now did it all mean nothing?

  Trees hung over the dirt driveway like a trellis, and someone quite different from what I expected stood on the porch. I was imagining a kid, Ten or eleven what I saw was a boy no younger than seventeen. More than that, what I saw before my eyes, widened, was an almost exact replica of the love I’d left in Sunny Bay. If it wasn’t for his light-brown hair that was a little longer than Dante’s, I would swear it was him.

  “Scarlett, ignore Skylar. He can be kind of rude,” Joe warned as I got out of the car.

  “Yeah okay,” I answered, never taking my eyes off him. I grabbed my bags and headed toward the door.

  “So,” Skylar said. “I thought for sure you’d be in there for a while. They must have you all drugged up huh?”

  I moved a little closer, ignoring his comment. I realized his eyes were different, too. The piercing deep-brown eyes that I fell into so many times with no escape, were nothing but a dark, unflattering green on Skylar.

  “Skylar cut it out!” Joe yelled. “He’s been a little better since we moved, but—”

  “Scarlett, what would you like for dinner?” My mother interrupted.

  “I don’t care I’m not that hungry,” I replied.

  I didn’t know what to do, I felt less at home here than I did in the hospital. I could tell I was going to have some serious problems with Skylar, and Joe’s friendliness seemed to be nothing but an act.

  “Oh, alright, would you like to see your room?” she asked.

  “I’ve been waiting to see my room since I was brought to that place,” I gave her a dirty look. “Unfortunately I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I added with a harsh tone to my voice that couldn’t be ignored.

  “Look, you don’t know what it was like for me after what happened. Everyone stared, all the dirty looks and that was just for me, honey. What do you think would be waiting for you there?” she said in her fake loving voice, she was good at faking it. Joe would soon learn all about that.

  “I know what it must have been like, but I didn’t do it, I couldn’t have,” I cried.

  “Well that hasn’t been proven,” she lost her nice tone.

  “It hasn’t been proven that I did it either. It hasn’t even been proven that she’s dead. Maybe if the cops—”

  “Alright, that’s enough out of you. Your room is through the kitchen and down the hall.”

  “I’m going to find out what happened to her,” I swore. “And when that day comes whether it’s tomorrow, or in ten years, I’m going to make you feel the same way you’ve made me feel, oh loving mother of mine,” I snapped.

  “I wouldn’t search for answers to questions you don’t want to know,” she hurled one of my bags at me.

  “You want to add physical abuse to emotional?” I picked up my bags. “Be my guest.”

  I stomped into the tiny kitchen. I was going to give in and go to my room, but instead I went out the door to the garage. I dropped my bags on the floor, then I searched for a tent, there wasn’t one to be found.

  I collapsed on the floor, tears streamed down my pale cheeks. My red curls were in knots; I wasn’t sure I could ever brush them out. My hair was bright, beautiful it had an orange shimmer in the sunlight. Now it was dull and lifeless. How hadn’t I noticed this before?

  I saw a mirror on the other side of the garage. I jumped up to look into it; I hadn’t seen a mirror in months—they were dangerous. I stared at myself, seeing what I had become. The red seemed to have been sucked out of my hair from the bottom up. It must have been all the dust in that awful room. Showers were a privilege. My eyes, still a vivid green, had purple circles under them. One hand to the wall, I put my forehead to the mirror and cried. Months and months of horrible things I’d kept inside came bursting out. I thought it would never stop.

  “Hey,” Skylar whispered as he shut the door to the kitchen.

  “What are you doing out here? Just leave me alone,” I sniffled.

  “I’m not as bad as my dad says, I just have to act that way… it’s hard to explain,” he stared at me. I went back to my previous position. “I didn’t make you cry, did I?”

  “No,” I said, still staring at myself. I hit my hand against the mirror a few times, it cracked. This is why mirrors weren’t allowed, I thought to myself, stop acting insane. “It’s everything. I couldn’t have done it. Not unless I was possessed. I can’t stay here, but I can’t leave either unless I go back to the hospital.” I forgot and put my forehead to the glass once again. “Ah,” I gasped, taking my face away from the glass.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  He ran across the room, grabbing paper towels from a shelf. He came over and wiped the blood away. He was so gentle. He couldn't have been the same person who greeted me on the porch.

  “Thanks,” I said, embarrassed.

  He just insulted me not even five minutes ago, why was I so quick to forgive him?

  “No problem,” he smiled. God what an astonishing resemblance. His smile was so much like Dante’s it took my breath away. “Are you alright?” he asked, laughing.

  “You look a lot like… someone I knew.” I sighed, welcoming the air back into my lungs.

  “Someone you knew, huh?”

  “Just some guy,” I said, looking in the other direction. I could see him frown out of the corner of my eye. “What‘s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he smiled again. His dimples weren’t pronounced, but they were charming nonetheless. “So what are you doing out here anyway?”

  “I was looking for a tent. I was going to sleep in the backyard.”

  “That’s not a good idea,” he advised. “You never know what’s in those woods,” his expression turned grim, “especially at night.”

  “What do you mean?” I laughed, not because it was funny, but because I was nervous.

  “Bears, stuff like that,” he shrugged.

  “I think I’ll take my chances,” I replied, ready to welcome my death if it meant escaping this.

  “You shouldn’t, really. Your mom’s room is all the way across the house, she won’t be bothering you,” he walked toward the door. “Are you coming?”

  “Yeah,” I answered as I tried to make my legs move. He had the same effect on me as Dante did.

  He walked through the kitchen, grabbing something out of the fridge and returning to his path faster than he had left it.

  “Here we are,” he said as
he nudged the door open with his elbow.

  I walked in with vigilance. It looked just like my old room.

  “Wow she put quite a lot of effort into this,” I observed as I spun around. “She’s never done anything like this for me,” I almost felt a tear, until I realized—she must have an ulterior motive. I threw myself onto the bed. At least I could pretend I was home. Skylar shut the door and held out a Coke as he sat down next to me.

  “Thanks,” I said as I took the can.

  “No problem.”

  “So what did they tell you? About what happened, I mean.”

  I didn’t know what their view of the story was, but I was very eager to find out.

  “Look, I don’t believe that you did it, and I think she’s alive,” he blurted.

  “So what did they say to lead you to that conclusion?” I asked with skepticism. If their side—and by side, I mean opinion—of the story could lead him to believe that, my mother couldn’t see me as a total monster.

  “What’s wrong? I’m saying I don’t think you did it.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder.

  “What did they tell you?” I asked, enunciating each word.

  “Not much. I’ve heard them say things here and there. I don’t think I was supposed to hear it though.” He looked around making sure no one heard. He was nervous, there was no doubt about it.

  “Just don’t then. You don’t know any more than I do, if you even know that much. So stop trying to give me false hope when you know nothing.”

  I was being rude and I felt awful, but I wasn't one of those people who wanted to hear lies to feel better.

  “Alright, I don’t want to upset you. What you need right now is a friend. Mind if I stay in here for a while?”

  “I—” I thought for a moment. Before I never minded being alone, but the hospital had given me a complex. I had to demand a night light, but that did little. I still saw things, monsters coming in the night. “Yeah, I would like that,” I said, trying not to sound like a frightened little girl.

  “I’ll stay as long as you want,” he smiled.

  I got up and looked around the room. There were pictures of Grace and me hidden in drawers, Dante was in some of them.

  “Those were the days,” I muttered to myself.

  “What is it?” He asked.

  “Oh, do you want to see?” I asked as I walked over to him. “This is Grace, and that’s Dante.”

  I missed them so much, I couldn't bear it.

  I closed my eyes; all the monsters that had haunted me appeared behind my eyelids. They were distorted, as my dreams sometimes were. White-faced men with blue lips, just stared at me as the blood ran down the corners of their lips to their chins.

  Parts of them would disappear, coming back to only have other pieces vanish, like a TV with bad reception. There were women with long flowing hair and bloodshot eyes, as if the vessels burst. They had crimson lips, and blood scattered in various places. I opened my eyes, I couldn’t take it anymore, but the monsters gathered around us. I gasped, staring wide-eyed across the room, looking right, then left.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “It’s just some old demons coming back to haunt me,” I said, sounding calmer than I was, though my voice, my breath, and my hands all trembled.

  He couldn’t see them, that was for sure. I grabbed my bag; inside I had a box full of pills I’d pretended to take. My dreams were a connection to Grace. The pills made the dreams stop, so I hid them, until I noticed they made the monsters go away as well. I searched for the box, tossing my clothes in the bag aside. I found the box, popped it open, and let the top fall to the floor. I shook two out into my hand—a double dose—and threw them into the back of my throat. I took a deep breath and waited for them to disappear.

  “What was that?” He wondered.

  “My meds,” I answered with shame.

  “What happened? Why were you so desperate to find them?” he questioned while watching me.

  “I see things, okay, is that what you wanted to hear? You can go if you want,” I said as I reached for the lid.

  “No, I was just making sure you were okay. You’re not used to someone caring about you, are you?” He asked, never taking his eyes off me.

  “No, not anymore, my best friend cared; she’s missing. My other best friend cared; he believes I had something to do with it.”

  “Careful what you assume,” he warned.

  “Okay, fine,” I snapped. “I just want to forget all of this. Better yet, I wish it never happened.”

  “I know,” he sighed. “Tomorrow, we’re going to find out what happened.”

  “What? I might not remember anything, but I know that would be nearly impossible.”

  “Sleep on it. Tomorrow when your mom and my dad go to work, if you say yes, we’ll make it look like a robbery slash kidnapping, in case we’re gone for a few days.”

  “They’ll have the police looking for us,” I objected.

  “No, I have a strong feeling they won’t.” A bolt of lightning lit up the room, and then it was dark. “The power must have gone out,” he said as he got up.

  “Wait, where are you going?” I asked, sounding just as distraught as I was.

  “I’m going to look for some candles and a flashlight. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll help,” I said, jumping up.

  I started to wonder if I could function in the real world at all. I couldn’t even sit alone during a power outage; I had to cling to the nearest person.

  “Okay,” he laughed.

  We headed out into the hallway. I was no more than a foot away from him at all times. There was another lightning strike. The window along the front door was illuminated and so were the large boots and black pants of somebody standing outside.

 
Sonny Daise's Novels