Last Glimpse

Chapter 11

But now that left the question: did they kill my mother to get back at Gavin? Or was my mother somehow caught up in all this?

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I didn't know what to think anymore. Thoughts were racing around my head and I couldn't make any sense of them anymore. Duncan had left and I sat on my make-shift bed, unmoving as I tried to sort out my thoughts. It was like straightening out a bowl of spaghetti.

My almost-but-not-quite-step-father was somehow involved with the men who supposedly killed my mother. But, he had been not only threatened by them but indirectly attacked by them. That would mean he didn't help them, or wouldn't, right? I sighed, placing my head in my hands and staring at the floor in front of my feet. But if it wasn't Gavin who was somehow involved in this, then that would mean my mother was tied up into this.

I sat bolt upright as a thought suddenly struck me. Could this have something to do with my father's untimely death? Could these men have had something to do with the murder of both of my parents. The thought alone sickened me.

I thought back to all of the conversations with my mother, but I could not remember a time when something was out of the ordinary or my mother was involved with any sketchy activities. I thought back farther, but I could hardly remember my biological father, let alone any conversations or activities.

I sighed heavily, putting my head in my hands and letting my loose hair fall in my face. I stared at the floor in front of my feet for a bit before closing my eyes, letting the dizzy feeling that always came with it wash over me. I fell sideways onto the couch, too overwhelmed by my thoughts to have the will to do something.

At first I had been hoping that Duncan would stay, so that I wouldn't be alone with my thoughts. But he had made it clear that he was concerned for his father and went to check up on him. Considering the fact that he had already been gone for over 10 minutes, I figured either his dad needed something or he left while I was completely spaced out. My lips pursed at the thought of myself being so deep in thought that I was completely unaware of my surroundings.

Of course I had been losing myself to my thoughts quite often recently, and I had good reason for that. But it still unnerved me that I had sunk so low in this misery that I could completely loose myself to my thoughts. I had never let that happen before. I was always at least mildly aware of my surroundings, no matter how groused in thought I was. But now that I had lost that awareness, especially with these random vision blackouts I had recently been having. It was becoming disconcerting. I new I should talk to somebody about it, but I didn't want to burden anybody with this. I had a feeling it was just something that would pass and worrying somebody about it would blow it out of proportion.

I opened my eyes, staring up at the ceiling. I just couldn't get that nagging feeling in my gut to go away. I felt like something was wrong, that something was missing, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. I pursed my lips once more, blowing air out of my nose harshly. This was beginning to frustrate me. Everything was happening at once and I couldn't make sense of it. I rolled over onto my side, staring at the side of the couch. I glared at it, as if it was causing all of these problems. I closed my eyes again, deciding that a nap may help clear my mind.

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I woke up feeling groggy, sitting up and stretching my arms over my head. I rubbed one eye and peeked over towards the window. It was pitch black outside. So I had slept through the whole day. Great.

As I was just thinking about lying down and falling back asleep, my stomach growled. I grimaced, clutching it as I realized how long it had been since I had eaten anything. The idea of going back to sleep was thrown out the window and I grabbed my crutches, heaving myself up and making my way over to the kitchen as quietly as I could. I rummaged through the newly stocked refrigerator-when had that happened?- and decided against trying anything. I didn't know what was knew and old and I didn't want to accidentally find out. I went over to the pantry, noticing some new foods that definitely were not as old as myself.

After pulling out some PopTarts, I quietly opened them and started to devour them. And by quietly I mean loud enough to wake up the apartment complex. It is impossible to open those things quietly.

I lifted myself onto the counter, eating the next tart at a more reasonable pace. My mind began to wander again, and I thought back to the conversation with Duncan. So it seems that Gavin wouldn't be involved in any of this, considering him and the men who supposedly killed my mother didn't like each other.

I sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that night, placing my head in one of my hands. This was all far, far too complicated.

(A/N: Hey all! Sorry for the late update and short chapter! I'm just trying to figure out where I'm going with this story and how I'm going to get there...

I'm thinking about making this a series (maybe just two books). What are your thoughts? I'm interested. If it should be a series, the next book would be called Last Chance.

Again, tell me your thoughts on this!

Vote, comment, follow me, you know the drill. Please, please pleasepleasepleaseplease leave a comment! Mini cupcakes to those who do! I will be giving shoutouts to those who comment! Also, if anybody wants me to check out there story and give feedback or just so they have more reads, comments and votes, comment the name of your story in this chapter! Toodles!)