Lost and Found

Chapter 1

When Tavia died, I was lonely. Mom didn't pick me up from school, and told me I had to do things by myself from now on. My grades weren't good anymore, because Tavia wasn't helping me with my homework. I would beat kids up at school if they talked to me when I didn't want to be talked to.

Finally, Miss Moore had enough. She told me to stay in for recess and talk to her. I remembered the conversation exactly.

"Benjamin, we need to have a talk about your behavior." She had said.

"I don't wanna." I shook my head at her.

"You can't keep being rude to the other children. I know what you're going through is hard, but your classmates haven't done anything to you."

"It's too late now. I already was mean so now they don't like me."

"I'm sure that's not true. Why don't you try apologizing to Ty?" Miss Moore suggested. So I did what she told me.

"Ty, I'm sorry I beat you up that one day. I was just really sad." I told him later that day.

"It's okay. Do you wanna be friends?" He asked me. I said yes, and that's how I met my best friend.

Mom and I didn't really talk that much when Tavia first died. She stayed in her room, only coming out to get food or use the bathroom. I never started a conversation with her, because I was convinced she didn't love me anymore. Until one day, I needed to talk to her.

"Momma, how come we don't have any food?" I asked her late at night. I was starving, but I didn't know how to make anything. Tavia always did that.

"Tavia isn't working anymore so we don't have enough money to get food. I gotta pay for the apartment with my money. Here, Benny. Take these to the grocery store." Mom handed me food stamps. Little did I know I would still be getting my meals this way today.

"Hey Ben, you wanna come over after school today?" Ty asked when last period got out.

"Nah man, I gotta work." I told him. As soon as I turned 16, I had gotten a job to support my mother. She hadn't said anything, but I knew she hated her job because soon after I started working, she quit.

Since then, Mom and I have talked a lot more. She started being the mom I always dreamed of having; one who would be awake when I was awake. I know that sounds terrible, but with Tavia always around, mom didn't feel like she had to be there all the time.

I ran across the road to the bus stop. Whoever put a school right next to the busiest road in Chicago was an idiot. The other high schoolers soon followed. We never spoke, but we had a silent respect for each other. We were the ones who sat and waited for the bus as the other kids pulled out of the parking lot in their expensive cars, all paid for by their parents.

The bus pulled up and I swiped my metrocard and headed to the back. It was about an hour ride to work, and I wanted space to do my homework. I worked six days a week, all eight hour shifts. It was exhausting, but I needed the money.

Mom thought the money was for college, and some of it was. But most of my money was being saved to hire a private investigator.

The day Tavia died, I didn't ask what happened. I thought mom would just tell me at some point, but she never did. When I finally wanted to know, this is what she told me:

"Your dad got a call at work from the police. They needed him to come in because they believed Tavia had died. He identified the body and that was that."

But my father left only a couple days after she died, and was never seen again. So many things were wrong with that story. Wouldn't my dad have called mom right away? Wouldn't the police come to interview us? Why didn't dad want to have a funeral? Why did my dad leave so quickly?

I sometimes wondered if maybe my dad's story was all a lie and Tavia was still out there. I would probably be wasting thousands of dollars just to confirm that my sister was dead, but I needed to know.