Pretty Little Liars

Chapter 3: Miss Me When I'm Gone

"I made chocolate chip pancakes," Neah Dameron's mother, Violetta, singsongs as she opens the door to Neah's bedroom.

Neah grumbles as she lifts her head out from under her pillow, her hair frizzy around her face and her head feeling like a million pounds. She barely slept a wink last night but she read somewhere that it's normal for teenagers to barely sleep without waking up these days. So that's a good thing... right?

"It's already time for school?" Neah groans, reaching for her phone on the nightstand to check the time. It glares back at her.

"It most certainly is." Her mother is smiling, her straight white teeth just as bright as the morning sun. She glances down the hallway before taking a few steps into the room, approaching her daughter like she's a ticking time bomb. "How are you doing, sweetie?"

The tone is sincere and concerned, just like any good mother would be on the anniversary of their daughter's best friend's disappearance. Honestly, Mrs. Dameron was probably thinking about today far more than Neah has been. She became a helicopter mom right after Alison went missing-- hovering over Neah like a shadow, desperate to keep her close and caring way too much about her wellbeing. Neah didn't mind at first, it made her feel safe and secure. She had no idea what happened to Alison and it was terrifying. But having her mom around made things easier. Now, it's getting old.

Neah sighs softly to herself and tosses the blankets to the side, sitting up in bed. "Time is weird, Mom. Seasons change and people change, yet it still feels like very little has." She fiddles with a loose string on her pillowcase.

She puts a hand over her daughter's knee. "Neah, you can always talk to me about how you feel about Alison. Today is going to be rough, and that's understandable."

Neah's chocolate brown eyes flicker up at her mother's. "Is this how it was for you when Dad died?"

It's a question about a topic that the two of them don't bring up much. Neah's father passed when she and Sage were too young to remember him ever having been around at all. But the memories of him used to take too much of a toll on her mother that they stopped mentioning him altogether. After she remarried, the conversations stopped hurting but old habits die hard. At least that's what Neah guesses.

Violetta doesn't even shudder-- which is something new. She thinks about it. "It was. Time may be weird but they don't lie about it being able to heal so much. It may sound dumb, but some years it's harder than others. On those days I buy him a strawberry and banana milkshake."

Neah gives her mom a weak smile. "You're usually right so I'm sure you're right about this too."

Her mother pulls her into a tight hug but doesn't say anything, her Chanel No. 5 perfume assaulting Neah's nostrils.

"Thanks, mom," Neah says quietly.

"If you find yourself struggling, do something Alison would've liked," Mrs. Dameron advises, squeezing her a little. "I'm sure it's what she would want."

She isn't wrong, and Neah considers this. Alison was constantly hungry for attention. Neah distinctly remembers riding bikes with her past the cemetery once on a bright summer day.

"Hey, if I ever die, promise to think about me every day," Alison said to her, her golden locks of blond blowing behind her.

Neah shot her a look, furrowing her brow. "Ali! Don't be so morbid."

"It's not morbid," Alison claimed. "Just promise you'll think about me when I'm gone."

Neah grinned. "It'd be hard not to."