Torn

“Where’s dad?” Daniel asked as he made his way down the stairs failing to see his father. My mother must have noticed the worried expression my little brother wore on his face and answered him with a simple, “He had to go to work.” “But it’s the holidays, and dad promised to take me to the park and play football with me today!” Daniel argued. “How many times has he said that?” Mum asked him. “A lot.” Daniel replied, his expression changing from worry to disappointment. “Yeah, and how many times has your father actually taken you to the park, or anywhere for that matter?” Mum suddenly found herself yelling. “A few times...” As Daniel answered mum, I noticed his eyes begin to water. He turned his back on us and ran up the stairs, into his room.

“Gosh mum, leave the poor kid alone.” I said.
I left the rest of the smashed plate, left over cereal and full cream milk for mum to clean up.
I followed in Daniels footsteps, up the stairs. Once I reached the top, I turned left instead of right and made my may to my brothers’ room. I was walking towards a closed door. I knocked, but he didn’t answer. I pressed my ear against the door to try and hear if he was crying. I didn’t hear a thing. I pushed open his door, expecting him to fight against it and not let me in. Not this time. My eyes were drawn towards his bed, the first place my eyes always wonder to when I’m viewing Daniel’s bedroom. He wasn’t there. I looked around the rest of his room. Under his bed, behind the door, in his closet. It was then that I realised he wasn’t in his room. I began to panic. Where else would he be? I ran into my room. He wasn’t there either. The bathroom, again, still no sign of him.

I sprinted down the stairs screaming, “MUM, DANIEL HAS GONE!” She looked at me as though I was playing some sort of joke, but finally it sunk into her. “Hannah, get me a piece of paper and a pen.” I grabbed the nearest notebook I could find and ripped out whichever page I opened up to. Now it was time to look for a pen. This house has a pen thief I’m telling you! “Hanna paper, pen. NOW!” “I can’t find a stupid pen!” I yelled back to my mum. She began to search through her handbag. “Got one!” It took me a while to figure out which ‘one’ she got. I passed her the paper. She began scribbling a little note reading,
Daniel,
Please, if you are home, stop playing tricks. I expect to see you on the sofa by the time we get home.
Love, Mum & Hannah. xxxx.
She left it on the kitchen bench.

“Mum, where are we going?” I asked. “To look for Daniel!” She answered. “But what if he is home, he’s only seven. Nobody is going to be here with him!” Don’t get me wrong, I would have gone with mum, but I was still in my pyjamas. “Well then, you stay here!”
And with that my mother had stormed off slamming the front door behind her.
I grabbed the note mum had written and put it in my pyjama pocket. I went up the stairs, back into my brothers room just to be sure he wasn’t still in there.
He wasn’t, obviously. I felt a sudden, cool breeze, and this time I did notice something different about his room that I must have missed before.
My little brothers bedroom window was open. Not just a little bit. But wide open...