I'm Gone Away
You're Not Here
The streetlights lining the road were elegant, curved sculptures of metal that had glowing orange-yellow orbs illuminating circles on the asphalt five feet in radius. Raindrops scatters across the windshield of the navy blue Chevy Impala as it sped through intersection after intersection, the driver disregarding the colour of the traffic lights. Black velvet enveloped the vehicle once it turns onto a gravel road and roared away.
"Ames? Time for breakfast!"
"Mama?"
"Yea, Alli?"
"Amy's car isn't here."
"What?"
"Look."
Mrs. Cooper hurried to the window only to see Allison's statement was true. She quickly scrambled up the stairs to the first room on the left, pounding on the door. When she got no reply, she turned the knob, rushed into the room, and gasped. The closet was open, and drawers had been pulled out onto the floor. Amy's sheets lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. The mother ripped a sheet of paper off the bulletin board and read aloud to herself in a barely-audible whisper.
"'Mama and Alli, please forgive me for this. I needed to do this. I hope you both understand. This town just ain't big enough for me anymore. I guess it never really was. I love you both more than ever. Please, please, PLEASE don't hate me. Love, AmyG.' Oh, Amy," she moaned tearfully, as her cheeks became soaked.
"She's gone, ain't she?"
"Yea, Alli, she is." She straightened. "But she'll come back. She will."
"Mama---"
"She will! Now, let's eat, so you can go to school."
"Ames? Time for breakfast!"
"Mama?"
"Yea, Alli?"
"Amy's car isn't here."
"What?"
"Look."
Mrs. Cooper hurried to the window only to see Allison's statement was true. She quickly scrambled up the stairs to the first room on the left, pounding on the door. When she got no reply, she turned the knob, rushed into the room, and gasped. The closet was open, and drawers had been pulled out onto the floor. Amy's sheets lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. The mother ripped a sheet of paper off the bulletin board and read aloud to herself in a barely-audible whisper.
"'Mama and Alli, please forgive me for this. I needed to do this. I hope you both understand. This town just ain't big enough for me anymore. I guess it never really was. I love you both more than ever. Please, please, PLEASE don't hate me. Love, AmyG.' Oh, Amy," she moaned tearfully, as her cheeks became soaked.
"She's gone, ain't she?"
"Yea, Alli, she is." She straightened. "But she'll come back. She will."
"Mama---"
"She will! Now, let's eat, so you can go to school."