& P.S. Help?

He and I were both 15. We had the rest of our lives ahead of us and one man changed it all. All this he did was stop a car and ask a question. Then we were gone. No more Zoe Macintyre or Kade Sawtson who attended high schools and hung out with friends regularly. No, they were gone. I hadn't known there was going to be another person taken as well. I didn't even know I was going to be taken. It was all very fuzzy and it happened all too fast. In a blink of an eye not only had I apparently vanishe

He and I were both 15. We had the rest of our lives ahead of us and one man changed it all. All this he did was stop a car and ask a question. Then we were gone. No more Zoe Macintyre or Kade Sawtson who attended high schools and hung out with friends regularly. No, they were gone. I hadn’t known there was going to be another person taken as well. I didn’t even know I was going to be taken. It was all very fuzzy and it happened all too fast. In a blink of an eye not only had I apparently vanished, but I couldn’t do one single thing to stop it.

                After school I’d gone straight home to check my mailbox. I was awaiting a letter from Camp KRC. Camp KRC stood for Camp Kids R Cool. It was a camp for kids 9-13 to hang out and meet new people; I was up for head camp counselor. Sadly when I opened the door of the mailbox; it was vacant. Not even an ad for some adolescent to babysit; pure emptiness. Annoyed with myself for getting my hopes up, I marched into my house.

                “Zoe, is that you?” My mother called from within her bedroom. Her TV was on and I was sure Dr.Phil was giving useless advice to a man or woman who’d already ruined their lives by going on the show in the first place.

                “Yes Mom!” I called out to her. Almost instinctively I sat down my bookbag and headed towards the staircase to climb up to my room. I’d almost successfully snuck past my parent’s bedroom when my Mom turned around to see me.

                “Oh, Zoe. Please help me finish folding Tara’s clothes.” She asked looking at me with puppy-dog eyes. I sighed.

                “Eh, okay.” Sighing again I headed towards her bed where she was sitting Indian style. Her jet black hair was held together in a super tight ponytail glued directly in the back-center of her head. She was wearing a green cable knit sweater and black cargo pants paired with regular white socks. She looked more like a mother than ballerina everyday. Fact is that my mother was a professional ballerina for 4 years. She was a size 2 and 5”7 young adult trying to make it huge; then she got pregnant.  15 years later, here I am. And I have a 2 year old sister named Tara.

                I grabbed a yellow and pink plaid infant dress. It was pretty cute for a 2 year old. I folded it properly and grabbed another garment.

                “How was school?” My mother asked, obviously after a bit of small talk.

                “Good; and your day?” I asked, grabbing a pair of baby socks.

                “Uneventful. Tara cried for three hours on and off. I even read her Pooh Bear but nothing would stop her.” She sighed. “The Adventures of Whinny the Pooh” are Tara’s favorite books, so it was pretty shocking.

                “I’m sorry.” I muttered. We finished folding in silence except for Dr.Phil and his lecturing. I got up to leave but my Mom stopped me.         

                “Could you head to Rite Aid and pick up some diapers? Tara was like an explosion today. It must have been last night’s beans. I would have myself, but I ran out of time today.” She asked again with those puppy-dog eyes. I was about to have a semi-temper –tantrum but she threw in “Fifty bucks. Please.”  That sold it.

                “Okay!” I ran into my bedroom not knowing it was the last time I’d probably ever see it. I grabbed a light red sweater and flew down the stairs. Fifty bucks was a lot of money when you’re fifteen; especially just to bike a mile to a Rite Aid.

The End

1 comment about this story Feed