September 18, 2018

I walked on the stones that always welcomed me home and checked to see if the door was open. Unlike yesterday it was locked. I went through to the second zipper in my backpack to get the keys. When I opened the door I dropped my bag by the door and went to lay on the couch. I was very tired now and throughout the day I have been tolerating my soreness, but getting home it was as if it hit me all at once. I laid there for a long time, just breathing, but even breathing made me feel sore. My mind thinking a million different things all at once. Some thoughts were about this morning's chaos, some about Jack, some about having to get up and clean my earbuds, but the one that overtook my mind was the flashback that I got in the park, the one about my parents. I let out a groan trying to force myself to shove the memory to the back of my mind. Forget, forget, forget! But it kept coming back, faces blurry and that car. I got up breathing fast.

"M?" I turned to see Auntie from the hallway, "Something wrong?"

"No," I answered, calming my breathing and relaxing my eyes, "It's nothing Auntie." I got my backpack and went to my room. "I'm going to be in my room."

"Okay." She said, giving me a sad smile. I could tell that she was worried for me, but I just couldn't tell her what was on my mind. I was afraid to.

I shut the door shut to my room and threw my backpack on my floor. What should I do to get my mind off my parents? Go outside? Homework? Wait! I went to my desk even though it didn't look like one because the top was filled with papers, clothes, and anything that I was too lazy to put away, but on top of all that stuff was the journal. Let's read this. This definitely distracts me. I got the journal from the top of the stuff, some of the junk even falling from the pile. I'll pick it up later, I thought then I proceed to lie on my bed. I opened the journal to where I last was, remembering what had happened before. He was saying how he's tired of being perfect was it? I checked the journal. 'November 12, 1996... Tuesday...' Ah! Here it is! 'Sick of being the perfect little boy.' I read in my head. And his parents... A flashback of my parents came to my head. It was full force and I couldn't stop myself from reliving that moment. No! Stop it please, I can't. But my mind played the memory like an old record. It started hours before they had passed.

It happened on the fourth of February with a chilly breeze, it was an almost perfect day. I was riding home from the principal's office. My first fight in a school had caused me to be suspended for three months. I had hit someone who was bullying a younger girl. I hated seeing things like that go unnoticed. So I tried to help the girl and teach that bully a lesson, but my middle school was very strict about not wanting fights, and something like that would lead to trouble. Which caused me to be the one getting punished. So my mom and dad came to pick me up after a conference about my fight. The ride home was silent, I thought they were going to talk to me in the car, but it seemed they were waiting until we got home. I knew they were not mad at me; they made that very clear when they talked to the principal. They were however unhappy that I chose to fight instead of resolving this in another way.

My mom parked the car and I got out and waited by our front door for the door to be unlocked. Dad came and unlocked it.

"Go to the table okay?" He said as he swung the door open, "We still need to talk."

"Yes Dad." I respectfully said and walked to our table that he was referring to, the table where we ate breakfast and dinner. It wasn't really a dining table, but an island with high stools as seats. I preferred the coolness that the counter tiles gave than any wooden normal table. I sat there and waited. Dad sat across from me as Mom hung up the car keys. When she sat down I knew it was time that we were going to address this.

"Mneme, we want you to understand that we are very proud of you to stand up to someone like that, but fighting someone is not the only way to get through to someone." Dad said.

"Your Dad is right." Mom chimed in, "We taught you better than this. The road you are going on will lead to people thinking you're the one to blame. People will take advantage of that short temper if you don't know how to control it."

"I know." I said gazing away from them, "It's just that- I don't know. I feel that I won't get my point across unless I show them what I can do."

"But there are other ways to show. You don't have to beat the crap out of someone to get a point across." Dad said, "Words make all of the difference. I speak from experience."

"It's because you're an author, that's why you're saying that. You guys will never understand how it feels to not be heard unless you take action."

"We're hearing you loud and clear." Mom took my hand, "So why can't others?"

"Because! Kids are selfish and idiots!" I slapped her hand away, my voice starting to raise. "They don't care what you think! Only about themselves. How can I be a voice when they are drowning in their own thoughts?! Best just to shut them up and force them to feel what others are feeling!"

"But people do listen!" Dad shouted out, "It takes time, but they will listen. Hurting people will only cause them to think that you're wrong and that there is something wrong with you!"

"Both of you lower your voices!" Mom got off the stool and stood in front of the counter. "We are not going to yell when we are sitting right next to each other!"

"You both say you're listening to me, but right now when I'm trying to explain, you both are just shutting it down!" I yelled, "You guys just won't get it unless you both get hurt!" I got down from the stool and stomped to my room. Which at the time was way more cleaner than the one I have now.

"Mneme!" Mom followed behind me.

"Leave me alone! If you really want to listen to what I'm saying." I slammed the door shut. Two hours passed and my parents went to get groceries. They told me they would respect my wish to be alone, but still offered me to come and at the time I said 'no' I needed time to myself. But now I wished I had said yes because of what's to come. The sun set and it was getting dark. I got hungry and went to get some food in our kitchen. I checked my phone to see if they texted me if they were coming back, but there was no text. After a while I started calling, but no answers came. Three hours passed and I was getting worried. I called my Auntie who lived in the same area as us.

"Hello?" She answered.

"Hi, Auntie. I know it's late, but I wanted to tell you that my parents haven't come home yet after getting some groceries. It's been three hours. They usually don't take this long."

"Do you want me to call them?"

"No, I tried that already. I don't know what to do."

"Okay don't freak out. Your Uncle and I are coming over until they get back. Okay?"

"Okay." I slowly said, my heartbeat racing.

"I'm going to hang up now. I love you."

"Love you too." Then the call ended.

They came a few minutes later and I remember hugging them tightly. It was one of the last times I openly showed my feelings to both of them, crying a bit and telling them that I was scared. An hour later after calling them again and again they didn't come. Uncle even called the police and asked them if they could help us out. While Uncle was on the phone there was a knock on the door. I was happy, thinking it was my parents. I ran to the door wiping my tears away. I could say I'm sorry for not listening to them, that I spoke out of place! I opened the door smiling, but it quickly faded. It wasn't my parents. It was two police men.

"Good evening young lady." One said. "Is anyone, but you home?"

"Yes, I..." Shock was filling me, but I was still hopeful. Maybe they're the police Uncle called in. Maybe they're going to tell me that everything was alright. Yes, that must be it. "Let me go get them."

I walked away from the door and got Auntie. Uncle was still on the phone making my hope shatter a little. No, they must work fast. He must be calling someone else. I told myself hanging onto that hope.

"Auntie, there are two police men at the door. I think they want to see an adult."

"Okay, let's see what they have to say."

We both walked to the door, Auntie had a look of despair when she saw them.

"Go to your Uncle. Let me talk to them."

"Okay." I answered, getting nervous about that look on her face.

I walked to Uncle. He was on the phone nodding then hung up. He looked at me.

"They are doing the best that they can. They told me that they might have found them." He looked around. "Where is your aunt?"

"She is with two police officers outside. She told me to come to you."

"Okay, then let's stay here until she comes back."

"Okay." I answered and sat near him on the couch.

We sat for a few minutes then Auntie came. Her face was pale and her walk was filled with sorrow with each step. Tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Uncle said and rushed to her side. She said something that I couldn't hear, but Uncle caught it and the color of his face faded. I got up from the couch.

"What is it?" I asked desperately. Trying to stop myself from crying, pushing those negative scenarios out of my head.

"Your parents..." Auntie whispered, shocked to be saying this, "Are dead."