From Now, Until Forever

Chapter 4- Forever

We packed everything up in the cars and went home.

The second we pulled into the driveway, something was already messed up. The house looked dreadful, a suppressing memory pushing against the back of my mind.

I left my key inside. Dad didn't have any of his. We were screwed.

I walked up to the door. The spare key wasn't in the fake rock. Mom wasn't listening if she was there. I remembered there was a code for our security system, and it opened the garage or something.

If I could just remember the code...............

What was it? Hmm.. Oh yeah! It spelled out 'Home."' To remind us that wherever there is love, it is home. Dad picked it out. 4663.

Just thinking about it made me smile. I looked at him. He knew what I was thinking.

"Go ahead, I know you want to."

He never let anyone punch in the four digit code. I guess something about it, made him feel... special? I don't know. As I happily entered the code, the garage opened.

Mom's car was gone. I walked into the house, and nothing had been moved. Nothing touched. Even the air had a stale feeling to it. Not a breath had been exhaled. I called Mom's work. No answer. Of course not, it's Saturday. Cell: Nothing. I was beginning to worry.

"Maybe we should just stay here until she gets back." Dad said.

Zayn agreed, even though he wanted to go somewhere else and hang out.

"How about a movie?" He suggested after a while.

Dad walked into the kitchen to make some popcorn.

Zayn went to go change. I didn't need to. So i walked into the living room and turned on the TV.

And what I saw.... Ruined. Everything.

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I couldn't breathe. I actually couldn't stop now that I think about it. Rapid, shallow breaths escaped my mouth. My dad couldn't hear over the popcorn.

Zayn couldn't hear over his music.

Until I screamed. Close up shots make me SICK. Especially now.

After I screamed, Dad ran into the living room with the popcorn. One look at my face, and he knew he had to turn around to see what I was so petrified over.

When he did, Zayn ran into the room to comfort me. I couldn't stop shaking, and he didn't even know why yet. I couldn't even say actual words to get him to turn around.

Dad dropped the popcorn, and fell to his knees.

I sat there, huddled in a ball, crying.

Zayn fainted.

I blacked out. I was awake, but I couldn't move. I didn't want to. When I finally could, I swiftly moved to the bathroom. It was already morning.

I felt like throwing up, even though I rarely EVER did. I sat on the floor for a while, quietly sobbing to myself. Then I heard a knock.

I slightly opened the bathroom door. Again. So I walked up to the front door, and looked through the peephole.

Uh-oh.

Quickly, I decided whether or not I actually wanted to open the door.

But I knew I had to.

"Come in, please." I said as politely as I could. I put on my best fake smile, and welcomed him into my messy home.

Zayn and my dad had retired to their rooms, and the popcorn was still all over the floor.

Officer Simpson just looked at me.

I knew he could tell I was falling apart, so I just let my smile fade away, until I was on the verge of tears.

"You saw."

All he had to say.

I broke down. Cried oceans of tears and tears until there were no more.

He stared at the popcorn covering the floor and then looked at me questioningly.

"We were gonna watch a movie, so Dad made popcorn. the news channel came on, and I sorta screamed, and when he saw, he dropped the popcorn. He finally looked happy until that point. I blacked out and it was morning when I woke up. I guess he went to his room to sleep it off." I explained.

I walked into the kitchen through the popcorn, and made a cup of coffee, which brought more pictures flooding back into my brain.

I held up the mug. "Want some coffee?" I asked blankly.

"Yes, please." He replied. His voice was distant, like everything else in the world at the moment.

I knew exactly how to make his. Dad and him were best friends. I always payed attention to how Mom would make their coffee.

I handed it to him once it was done, and sipped mine. Then I swept up all of the popcorn. I made two more cups and then walked to the back of the house.

Zayn's first. The door was cracked, so I just opened it without knocking.

I walked towards his bed, woke him up, and handed him his coffee.

"Go into the living room."

I walked into the next room, but nothing was touched. Dad wasn't there. I freaked, and ran to Zayn.

"Wheres Dad?" I practically screamed at him.

I stepped into Zayn's room again before he could answer. I traveled around he side of his enormous bed and I found him, laying on the ground.

He was wide awake, obviously too paralyzed to move.

I could tell he hadn't slept at all.

"Dad..."

I pulled him to his feet. Slowly dragged him to the living room. Handed him his coffee. He snapped out of his trance, and started coming back to the real world.

We sat there in silence, not knowing what to do, what to say.

Officer Simpson walked out to his car, grabbed something, and returned all so quickly. It was a basket. Full of things for us.

Then.. He explained everything.

She was driving to my aunts house. When she got there, they had a few "starters" and then went to the bar. They had a couple more drinks, and at about 2:38 in the morning, street cameras show my mother and aunt leaving the club, getting in the car, and driving to my aunts house. After my aunt was at her house safely in bed, more street cameras showed my mother driving in the direction of our house. Three streets down... Three. My mom missed a red light. She didn't realize it until it was too late, she looked back, to see if her picture had been taken. When she turned back around, her head was turned slightly to find a huge a diesel truck heading straight towards her. She punched the gas, but her car died. She was stuck. When it hit, she was gone. Instantly. Dead on impact.

And I had watched the entire thing, not even knowing it was her until they showed the close up shot of her mangled, lifeless body.

Dried blood all down her face. Left arm almost torn off. I couldn't take it. Couldn't handle it, couldn't process it. It was too much.

I hadn't realized it until now that the very last words I had said to her were a meaningless, but definitely hurtful "You ruin everything."

My mother, my only mother that I would ever have, was dead. And I regretted every little thing I had ever said bad about her.

I loved her, even though sometimes it was hard to be around her. It was obvious too, we definitely had our good days. But ever since my grandma died, she was never the same. Cranky all the time, like she hated the world. And now, I understood.

I punched the ground, screamed cried, and eventually passed out.

My mom was gone.

Forever.