GONE

GONE

Her best friend has died leaving a mysterious box. Inside contains answers to his death along with a bloodstained key that might be more than she can handle.

“Pollyana! There’s a package at the door for you!” My mother called from downstairs. “Coming!” I tried to say as even-toned as I could. I hated other people knowing I’d been crying. They always ask me if I’m okay as if I’m the victim-- like, of course I’m fine! It’s my best friend that died, not me! What’s the point of even asking anyway when you’re just going to go on and continue with your normal life, not doing anything to help me feel “okay”.

“Pollyana, come get it now! The mailman is waiting for you to sign!” My mother yells. “Sorry, coming!” I yell back, wiping my tear stained face with the back of my hand. I got up out of my bed and gently placed the picture frame holding a photo of my late friend Dominic and I on my dresser so carefully as if he were still alive and living through that picture.

After running out my room and down the stairs, I greeted the mailman and signed for the medium sized package, thanking him and taking it from his hands. Closing the door, it finally hit me that I hadn’t been expecting a package from anyone. “Who in the world sent this to me?” I wondered, opening the front door back up to catch the mailman and ask him if he meant to deliver this to someone else, but he was already gone. As I was about to close the door, I noticed a sticky note that was left on the porch.

“That’s strange…” I muttered aloud, scrunching my eyebrows up at the note in confusion as I reached down to pick it up, prompting my mother to ask what I was talking about. The note read ‘Pollyana Jackson, your friend left this box for you, but I replaced the items. If you want to know more about what happened to your friend, you will follow all of the instructions I left for you in the box.’ I hesitated before answering, trying to figure out if I should tell my mom about the package or not. I usually tell her everything, but something about this particular thing made me decide to keep it to myself. I’ve always been a curious person, seeking knowledge and this package might have the answers to my questions.

Why did Dominic die all of a sudden?

Was it an accident, like the police said?

Or was it murder?

Why wasn’t there a body for his family to bury?

Is he really dead?

Who would want to hurt him? He was so outgoing and good to everybody, why would anyone want to end his life?

What if I didn’t really know him as well as I thought I did?

Now I had a new set of questions:

What did Dominic leave for me in the box?

Why was it taken out?

Who sent this to me?

What is going on?

“Polly, I asked you a question,” my mom said impatiently. “Oh, nothing! I just wanted to ask the mail guy a question but he was already gone. It wasn’t that important though,” I answer, trying to sound as believable as possible as I shut the door back. My mom nodded, but looked at me a bit skeptically before I ran back up the stairs and into my room, shutting the door behind me.