Destroyed

Chapter 18: Missing You

"Uncle Seth!" I cried for the umpteenth time. His face almost reminded me of Joker. I was annoyed, because not only did he barged into my room, but also he spoiled The Fault In Our Stars for me. Uncle Seth ignored my complaints as he took me to the living room.

He lets me sit in the living room couch and hurried to the kitchen to grab bags of popcorn and two bowls. I stared at him as if he was insane. "Uncle Seth," I repeated. "What is going on? Am I in trouble?" But he was too busy to answer. He opened the microwave, tossed two bags inside, and closed the door.

After he set the timer to one minute, Uncle Seth asked me to do a big favor for him. "Could you be a good niece and pop that disc into the DVD player?" he asked, staring at the microwave. "It's on the glass table right in front of you."

A gray disk sat still in the center of the table. I picked it up then saw the words in a black permanent Sharpie marker scribbled on top of the disk. School Play of 2008? I mumbled. But nonetheless, I put the disk in the DVD player and turned on the TV.

Uncle Seth returned to the couch with two bowls of popcorn in his hands. He handed one over to me then gazed at the screen. The disk showed a old play where kids flocked on the stage, wearing 18th century French costumes.

"What is-" I started to say. "Les Miserable," Uncle Seth explained. "Your father and I starred in this play when we were kids." I turned my head to gaze at him. "Dad was in a play?" I asked in amazement. "Where is he? What was his character?"

Uncle Seth opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it. "I'm not sure if  I should tell you," he said in a singsong voice. "Please?" I begged. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed the remote from off of the glass table and began to forward it.

I watched as the kids were talking and singing in a upbeat motion, but as soon as Uncle Seth pressed Play, a little girl with a ragged brown dress began to sing. "On My Own," she began. I was attracted to her voice until Uncle Seth began to snicker. "What?" I asked annoyed.

He nibbled on his popcorn, his smile never wavered. Just then, Mom and Dad came home from work. As soon as they dropped their things on the table, Mom asked us what we were watching. "A play," Uncle Seth snickered. Dad's face grew ghastly pale when he saw the little girl singing beautifully onstage.

"Turn it off," he moaned. "This is embarrassing." Uncle Seth shook his head furiously, leaving Mom and me confused. "What is going on?" Mom asked. "Who is the little girl?" Dad buried his red face into his hands while Uncle Seth laughed, that's when my wheels started to turn.

"No way," I gasped, pointing my finger at the little girl. "That was you, Dad?" Uncle Seth nodded eagerly as he let out a loud laugh. Mom giggled alongside with him. "I don't want to talk about it," Dad sighed. "Seth, I told you to throw it away!" "I did," Uncle Seth argued. "But Mom made two copies."

Dad buried his face with his hands once more. Something confused me. "Why did you get that role in the first place?" I asked. "He didn't," Uncle Seth sighed. "Another girl, Victoria I think, got the part right while he played the understudy."

Mom took three pieces of popcorn and tossed it into her mouth. "You never told me that, Ben." she giggled. Dad cut his eyes at her.  "So, when Victoria got sick," Uncle Seth continued laughing. "He had to go onstage and do her role. He killed the show!"

"It wasn't my choice!" Dad wailed. "That drama teacher couldn't find any part for me to play in, so she thought it would be best if I play a girl!" I bursted out laughing. "You looked absolutely ridiculous," Uncle Seth reminisced. "At least I didn't forget my lines," Dad sneered. "Seriously, the drama teacher had to correct you reciting Gavroche's words during the play!"

A smear of crimson reached above his face. "Shut up, Ben." Uncle Seth mumbled. "Did Grandma and Grandpa liked the play?" I asked suddenly. Dad and Uncle Seth looked at each other then nodded. "They were very proud of us," Uncle Seth chuckled. "I remembered at the end of the play, your grandparents were clapping and yelling like crazy."

"They came to every single school play, field trip, and our  graduation." Dad continued. "Because of our school play, Mom took us to see Les Miserable in New York." Uncle Seth wiped away his happy tears. "Mom bursted out crying when Gavroche died," he said. "We all did."

Mom walked over to Dad and hugged him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.  I squeezed Uncle Seth's hand tightly then stared into his sad brown eyes. They seemed a bit lost. Sighing, Mom took Dad by the hand then sat down next to us.

Uncle Seth replayed the entire movie then rested his hand on his popcorn. We were all quiet until I spoke up. "What time is the funeral?" I asked hopefully. "Around five o'clock," Mom answered, holding my hand. I glanced at the oven clock behind me. It was four thirty.

Later, I told my parents that I was going upstairs and change into my black dress. They gave me an approving nod, allowing me to go upstairs to my room. I fished inside the closet and pulled out a sparkly black dress that was hanging next to my cello. Across the wall were old blue ribbons, glittering like stars.

I remembered that I played Mozart on that cello once on a Talent Show and got first place, won Science Fairs, Spelling Bee, and an Art competition in New York. Sighing, I took off my clothes and pulled on my dress. I walked outside my closet to comb my hair and put on my mother's choker necklace.

After I laced my shoes, I turned to see a blank canvas leaning against the wall of my closet. I realised it was the one that I forgot to take with me to Harlem. I took out the big canvas and set it on my bed. I glanced to see the untouched paint, standing on my desk.

I have an idea, I thought.