The Vanishing

Prologue

One Year Earlier:

She's gone. I shut my eyes and shake my head. When I reopen them nothing has changed. My mother has vanished. Well, not vanished as in disappeared but her personality, anything that makes her who she is, has vanished. She just sits in her favourite wooden rocking chair, staring vacantly into the distance. Back and forth she rocks time and time again. Never moving. Never changing.

"Mum!" I squat down in front of my mother, hoping desperately that she will see me and snap out of whatever stupor she has entered.

Nothing. She stares right through me. Her hazel eyes never blink, never twitch, never change. It is like something out of a movie, something you hear about in books. It is something you don't believe to be possible. That is, until it happens to you.

I make my way over to the purple, moth-eaten couch and plonk myself down. I no longer care about the cloud of dust that envelopes me. Normally I would make a fuss and cough dramatically. Normally Mum would shake her head and laugh, her eyes twinkling. Normal went out the window when Mum vanished. I just don't know what to do, how to react.

Come on Evaline. Snap out of it. In and out. Remember in and out. I pull in lungfuls of air and then let them out as I attempt to calm myself. As I attempt to make sense of what is happening.

It helps because I feel myself calm down enough to start thinking rationally one again. I remember what I needed to do. This was an emergency and what do you do in an emergency? You call for help.

I stride over to the landline and ring the first number that comes to mind. Dad. The man that hasn't been in my life since I was, well I can't even remember when he last made an appearance at our house. The man ditched us for his new family and didn't have a second thought. For some reason, Mum made sure I knew his number though in case of an emergency. I believe this counts as an emergency.

He picks up after the fourth ring and in a rush, I blurt out everything. "Dad! Dad, it's horrible! Mum she... she isn't responding, isn't moving! It's like she is sleeping and I can't wake her up, except she isn't sleeping. Obviously, her eyes are open!" I ramble on and on until Dad interrupts me.

Midway through his response, I hang up. Dad just prattles on about how something similar is happening to new his wife and daughter and how I just need to stay calm and keep an eye on the news. Mum and I don't even own a TV or a radio! He would know if he visited once in a while. I don't have time for this. I stride to my tattered front door and throw it open. I take a step outside and begin my search for answers.

Little do I know that parents and children all over the world are experiencing the same dilemma as I am. Parents are standing over beds sobbing because their toddler suddenly sat down and stopped playing, stopped laughing. Children are shaking their parents, screaming at them to wake up while tears roll down their cheeks. Cars are coming to sudden stops on roads, teachers are dropping their chalk mid-sentence and news reporters are looking blankly into the camera as people watch on before turning to find their own family reacting in the same distant manner. It ruined us, well those of us left, and they called it The Vanishing.