An Unexpected Serving

Chapter Five: Lost

I wake up when the sun is warm and bright on my eyes. It’s my day off, and I do like to sleep late. After I stretch and make myself sit up, I realize that Hayley is no longer beside me. I’m not worried, though, she’s an early riser.

Groaning, I get off my bed and stumble towards the bathroom. Should I say something to Hayley about her parents? If I did, I would make sure not to mention that I saw her crying last night.

As I’m thinking about how to bring up the topic—and whether it would even help her for me to do so—I almost trip over a book.

Hayley. This is unlike her. She’s always quite neat and proper about putting her things away. Blinking the rest of my sleep away, I bend down to pick it up.

Then, I take a closer look. It’s my diary.

This can’t be right. Why would my diary be on the floor? Why is it open to this page…? Oh no. My fingers suffer from multiple paper cuts as I skim through the contents of the diary that I suspect Hayley has read.

I don’t really have to. There’s only one diary that I have kept with me all these years. It’s the diary from the year Hayley was born.

“Hayley,” I call out. We need to talk about this. About what she might have read. Lectures about privacy could be put aside until later. Right now, I have to see if she’s okay.

“Hayley!” I say. So, she isn’t going to answer me. Well, I am not going to let her mope in silence. Trying not to think about what I would actually say, I walk to the dining table where Hayley usually sat to read and eat.

She isn’t there.

I’m worried now. “Hayley!” I rush through my small apartment and check the bathroom, my room, the closet. “Hayley!” She isn’t here. She’s gone.

Oh no.

I sink to the floor and hold my head in my hands. Why does this always happen? Am I fated to be a screw-up my whole life? My mouth quivers pathetically at my failure.

No. This isn’t about me. Right now, I need to find Hayley. Using a reserve of strength that I didn’t know I had, I push my feelings aside. I would not let my personal issues compromise Hayley’s safety.

I rush out the door, taking care to leave it unlocked in case Hayley came home before I did. I didn’t care if it was stupid to do so. As long as Hayley could come home.

I have to think. Where could she have gone? She’s not close to any of the neighbors, but I check with the few we talk to just in case.

They haven’t seen her, and I can feel their judgmental eyes as they wonder how irresponsible I am to have lost a child. I ignore them and push on.

Where next? Where next? The thought runs through my mind in a loop interceded with my hopes that she is okay.

I check the park that is a few minutes away. She’s not there. I run up and down the nearby streets. She’s not there either.

My will threatens to fade and leave me wallowing in guilt and misery, but whenever I’m about to give up, I remember Hayley. Whether she wanted me to or not, I would find her.

That’s when I remember. It’s so obvious. Hayley would most likely go to her favorite place. The library. I pray that she’s there because I don’t know where else to go.

I run down the streets that lead to where I will I imagine Hayley is waiting for me. I’m sure I look like a mad woman, especially when I burst into the library with my eyes wandering around looking for Hayley. For once, I can care less.

My restless eyes finally settle on the unusually scruffy blond head of my niece. Thank goodness. I walk over to her and sit down beside her. She barely looks up at me.

Now that I’ve found her, I don’t know what to say. I wonder if she’s read the whole diary. She must have or else she would not be reacting this way.

“Hayley—”

“What you wrote…is it true?” she asks. I pause. It was all true. Did I need to tell her that though? Hayley stares at me with hard eyes so similar to the way she’s judged me when she first showed up. There’s a vulnerability behind it all just as there was back then.

“It is,” I say. She bites her lip and turns away from me so that I can’t see her face.

“I don’t get it,” she whispers. “Were Mom and Dad bad people?” She continues to avert her gaze. I sigh. After all that happened between me and Evelyn, can I really classify her as a “good” or “bad” person?

I think back to that day. The last day I’d ever written in my diary. The day I’d run away from home…

***AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the short chapter, people. I have already started the next chapter, so expect another update by Friday. Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave me your comments. ^_^ ***