Almost Crying
Chapter Seven
After a few minutes of sniffling and desperately rubbing tears out of my eyes, I go to my bedroom to find my phone. I flip it open, dial my mother’s- possibly adoptive mother’s- number, and wait.
She answers and I bombard her with questions and accusations almost immediately. She sound’s shocked at first, but her tone soon becomes apologetic. We talk for almost half an hour, and the call ends with me knowing that at point I had a different family- a different mother and father. A different brother, even. All of them destroyed in a horrendous car wreck.
It scares me to think about. I decide I need to get out; focus my thoughts on other things. I find a place to eat and then drive to the mall, where I spend the next few hours shopping for a variety of things. Clothes, CDs, books, and finally shoes.
I want to buy Gerard a new pair. I know his size, and I find something I think he’ll like. I figure I’ll give them to him when he comes over the next weekend. Sort of like an apology gift for upsetting him.
But he doesn’t come. Not that weekend, or the week after.
I start to worry. I know he has his own life and the capability to take care of himself, but I still want to make sure he’s okay. I finally decide to call, just to check up on him, but he doesn’t answer. Not any of the ten times I call him over the next few days. I leave messages and send texts, but get no reply. I sleep horribly and give myself panic attacks imagining all of the terrible possibilities. I don’t know if he’s hurt or dead or if his phone just isn’t working. I get the idea to call his work number, but it only makes things worse when they tell me he quit.
She answers and I bombard her with questions and accusations almost immediately. She sound’s shocked at first, but her tone soon becomes apologetic. We talk for almost half an hour, and the call ends with me knowing that at point I had a different family- a different mother and father. A different brother, even. All of them destroyed in a horrendous car wreck.
It scares me to think about. I decide I need to get out; focus my thoughts on other things. I find a place to eat and then drive to the mall, where I spend the next few hours shopping for a variety of things. Clothes, CDs, books, and finally shoes.
I want to buy Gerard a new pair. I know his size, and I find something I think he’ll like. I figure I’ll give them to him when he comes over the next weekend. Sort of like an apology gift for upsetting him.
But he doesn’t come. Not that weekend, or the week after.
I start to worry. I know he has his own life and the capability to take care of himself, but I still want to make sure he’s okay. I finally decide to call, just to check up on him, but he doesn’t answer. Not any of the ten times I call him over the next few days. I leave messages and send texts, but get no reply. I sleep horribly and give myself panic attacks imagining all of the terrible possibilities. I don’t know if he’s hurt or dead or if his phone just isn’t working. I get the idea to call his work number, but it only makes things worse when they tell me he quit.