Crossed Destinies

3. Callie

"We're getting a divorce."

My mom's words replayed in my head like a broken record. That means Dad left for good. I always knew they would get a divorce. The fighting, the pain. I knew it would be too much for them to handle.

I looked out the window. My eyes landed on the very spot Elizabeth was ripped from me ten years ago. I could still picture the black van pulling up to the curb. The men hurrying out of the car, grabbing Elizabeth.

"She's no use to me." The driver's words replayed in my head.

If I was no use to him, what use did Elizabeth have? What did he want with my little sister?

I pushed my thoughts aside and focused outside the window again. The sun was setting. The sky was getting dark.

I could hear mom talking in the next room. It sounded like she was crying. There wasn't any doubt in my mind that she was talking to her sister. Aunt Jamie and Mom were really close. They were more like friends than sisters.

My mind wandered to Elizabeth again. Would we be like Mom and Aunt Jamie? Would we be like those sisters who are basically best friends? The ones who would always be whispering secrets and gossiping to each other?

My mind set changed slightly, as I thought of a different subject. What would she look like now?

When we were younger, we both had bleach blonde hair. When I was around 10, mine darkened slightly, making it more of a honey blonde.

Would Elizabeth's hair be the same color as mine? Did hers stay light or did it get even darker?

I pushed my thoughts aside. I was going to drive myself crazy, well, crazier than I already was.

After the kidnapping, my mom insisted on taking me to get help, from like therapists and psychiatrists. My dad refused.

"I'm not taking my daughter to one of those good-for-nothings! She's not broken! There is nothing wrong with her!" was his exact words every time Mom brought up the subject.

Mom would always respond with "Don't you see how much she is hurting? Don't you care about Calina's mental health? She watched her younger sister get ripped right out from under her!"

Dad would just scoff, repeating the last sentence of his argument. "There is nothing wrong with it."

Finally, Mom gave up. It wasn't one of the fights she put all her effort in. Dad seemed really set on not getting help for me. But if she had really tried, she would've won with no questions.

Maybe if she would have tried harder, I wouldn't be in this mess right now. I wouldn't have scars tattooing my arms.

I pushed my thoughts aside. I needed to stop doing this, getting engulfed in my thoughts.

I stood up from the chair and walked over to my bed. I glanced around my room. I wonder if Mom would let me change rooms, or at least, change this one around.

I'm pretty sure she would. I think it was Dad that didn't want me to change my room. He said something along the lines that it was pointless. Mom didn't try hard to persuade him otherwise.

I cocooned myself in my blankets, trying to shut out the world around me.

I fell asleep quickly, only to be haunted by a reoccurring dream.

*Dream*

I stood at the creek. The cold rushing water splashed on my feet and ankles. In the trees, I could hear branches snapping and leaves crunching, as if someone was walking.