POV: Mark
"Do you think it's enough?" I asked.
"I don't know Mark. You know-"
"Do you think it's enough?!" I yelled, interrupting Jack.
He jumped, "I don't know Mark! I'm not Mrs. Garald!"
"But i've tried for three years, Jack. I still don't have her back. That's three years of her life she could have spent with me."
Jack sighed, looking around the house, "I miss her too. We all do."
I looked around the house too. I've moved out of the old house since Krystal left. This house was bigger, by a ton. The living room held a curved, high definition TV, the consoles all underneath of it. The kitchen was bigger, more fancier. There was an actual dining room, instead of us having to eat on the damn couch. A sliding glass door led to the backyard, where it held a pool, with a diving board, a trampoline, and a deck. Then, up the spiraling steps, there was a bed room for me and Krystal. Along with a recording room, much bigger than the last, and an extra room if one of the guys sleep over. Or one of Krystal's friends. Who knows?
But, the last door, Krystal would love that one. It was the arts room. There was a piano, a guitar, an art easel, drums, and then equipment to record everything in there. If she wanted to record her singing and playing the guitar and everything. Possibly make a song.
I plopped down on the couch with a sad sigh, "I hate missing her life like this. What if she hates me because I never picked her up? Or that I never visited her because-"
A knock on the door interrupted my sentence. I stood up, making my way to the door confusingly. I wasn't expecting anyone. Was Jack?
Opening the door, I saw a teen. Possibly sixteen. Her eyes were blue (I think? I honestly forget from the last book. If any of you can tell me, i'll change it and fix it. I forget XD), like crystals hanging from a ceiling. Her smile was big, shining in the moonlight. She wore all black, head to toe. But, even though she wore all black, I could still see her waist length blonde hair, pink highlights in it.
Those eyes and hair only belong to one person I know, "K-Krystal?"
A tear roll down her cheek, the moon reflecting off of it to make it seem like it was glowing, "Please, call me Krystalplier."