"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.
"Who... Who's there?" I heard myself stutter.
I carefully walked across the smooth wet rocks in the creek, making my way towards the noises.
More crunches.
Suddenly, two figures emerged from the trees. The driver who discarded me but took Elizabeth and a young woman. I stopped instantly.
"Lizzy?" The word escaped my lips.
The girl looked up at me. Her hair was dark and tangled with blood. Her face was bruised and bloodied. I noticed her lips were slightly swollen as well.
"Lizzy?" I questioned again.
I slowly walked closer to the woods. My focus was on the girl.
"Lizzy. It's me. Your sister. Callie." My words seemed foreign to my own ears.
Lizzy's eyes widened. Her mouth opened, as if she was going to say something, but the driver pulled his hand back and slapped her. She cowered back, covering her cheek with her other hand.
The driver turned to look at me. Anger flared in his eyes.
"Get out of here!" He growled. "She's mine now."
"No!"
I tried to jump off the rock and over to the patch of grass, but the rock was slippery, causing me to fall. I fell into the water with a loud SPLASH!
When I managed to pull myself up, the two figures had disappearing. The only sound was the rushing water of the creek.
"Lizzy!" I screamed loudly, causing my words to echo. "No!"
*End Of Dream*
I jolted awake, breathing heavily. I wake up at the same part of my dream every time I have it, which was almost every night. If I don't have that dream, I have another one about Lizzy.
My thoughts are completely revolved around Lizzy.
I want to believe she is okay. In every one of my dreams, she is alive. Some she is beaten and bruised, others she is perfectly fine, but she is always alive. I want to believe that means that she is okay, that she is alive.
I pushed the blankets off of me and got out of bed. I hurried to my bathroom to use the toilet, then went back to the main room. I stripped off my clothes. Silently, I looked through my closet and threw on a pair of sweatpants, an old shirt, and my track sweatshirt. I walked downstairs into the kitchen and slipped on a pair of sneakers, before heading outside.
I began to run, allowing all my thoughts to melt away like ice cream in the summer.
Running was my only escape from reality. When my dad wouldn't agree to get me help, my mom suggested I join a sport or club to help focus my mind on other things. I tried tons of other things: softball, soccer, volleyball, basketball, even football. The only time I felt normal is when I was running, so I joined the Track and Cross Country teams.
Time seemed to slow down as I ran through the town. Scenery blurred past me. People and cars seemed to fade into nothingness.
Eventually, I got tired. I headed back home and into the kitchen. I grabbed a water bottle and collapsed onto the couch in the living room.
The television was already on. Pictures flicked past on the screen, without me taking the time to really watch it.
"Callie..." My mom's voice started.
I took my attention of the flashing pictures, over to the doorway. My mom was standing in the doorway. Even though I just saw her yesterday, she looked so much different. She looked tired, older even. Her eyes had lost all sparks of life.
"Yeah?" I questioned.
Mom opened her mouth to speak but immediately shut it again.
"Mom. Are you okay?" I asked.
She nodded slightly. "Yeah...." She said weakly. "Yeah." She tried again. "Yeah. I'm okay."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded weakly again.
I knew too much was going on for her right now. Lizzy's birthday was next week, Dad left her, God knows what else.
"I'm going to need to get a job since your father walked out." Mom started. "You are going to have to help out around the house."
"Yeah. No problem."
"Thanks." She forced a smile.
She walked out of the room. I couldn't help but wonder where Mom would get a job. I don't think she has ever worked a day in her life. She was born into a rich family, who practically abandoned her when she started dating my dad. She had me at 17, which is when her parents really abandoned her. At 19, she had Lizzy. At 24, her youngest daughter was ripped from her and her other daughter was broken beyond repair. Now she was 34 and practically alone.
I tried to push my thoughts away. It was too much. I can't handle this. Not again.
I turned up the volume on the television, trying to drown out my thoughts, but not to any avail.
'You know what you want to do.' A voice in my head stated.
"No." I spoke out loud.
My wrist seemed to burn. I pushed my sweatshirt sleeve up and rubbed my bare wrist.
'Just go do it.' The voice spoke. 'You know you want to.'
The voice nagged at me, until I had enough. I walked upstairs, unaware of my actions. It was as if someone was controlling me. I walked into my bathroom. I pushed the toilet cover down and sat, placing my arm over the sink. I grabbed the old pink razor. I would need a new one soon.
Just as I raised the razor, a figure seemed to appear in the room.
"What are you doing?" She asked me. She had light hair and light eyes.
"Lizzy?" I questioned.
She smiled slightly, but ignored the question.
"What are you doing?" She asked again.
"What does it look like?" I snapped.
I pressed the razor to my wrist, but didn't cut.
"You shouldn't do that." She told me, almost warningly.
"Really?" I asked annoyed. "Why not?"
I slid the blade across my wrist, causing blood to seep through my skin and to run into the sink.
A loud scream filled the room, but it wasn't my own. I looked up to the figure. She had cuts all over her. Thick red blood covered her skin.
"Lizzy! No!" I screamed. Tears streamed down my face.
The door slammed open. The figure disappeared and was replaced by my mom.
"Callie!" She exclaimed, running over to me. She grabbed me and wrapped me in her arms. She rocked me back and forth, slightly.
"Lizzy." I sobbed, looking at the area where the figure was standing. "Lizzy."
I closed my eyes, feeling the soothing motion of my mom rocking me back and forth. Slowly, my consciousness faded away and I was completely overcome by darkness.