Tear Tracks Forever

Alex’s POV

“Rhee? You okay?” I shook her, but she didn’t open her eyes. Panicked, I checked for a pulse. There was one. Good. I fumbled for her phone, which she had dropped.

“Hello?” I called.

“Hello? Who’s this?” the person on the other end asked.

“It’s Alex. A friend of Rhee’s. She just randomly passed out. What happened?” I asked, worried.

“She…she just got the news that her father’s been murdered.”

“Oh.” A lump formed in my throat, and I slowly hung up Rhee’s phone, stuffing it in her pocket and picking her up bridal style. Leaving behind the beach towels and bags behind, I began to walk as fast as I could while carrying her towards my house.

I burst through the front door and found Carmella passed out on the ground. I dropped Rhee on the couch and began shaking my little sister. “Carmella!” I called. I checked for a pulse and there still was one. Next to her, I found some empty pill wrappers. Sleeping pill wrappers. There was no way my ten year old sister got bored and randomly took some sleeping pills. Hell, we didn’t even have any in the house! Then where did she get them from? There had to be someone in here.

I dashed upstairs and looked through every room, every closet, and every bathroom. No one. I dashed down the stairs and shook Rhee first. No answer. Then Carmella. No answer. Well, I didn’t really know what to do. Both of them were obviously alive, just unconscious. I wasn’t going to leave them both there and watch TV or something, but there really was no point of continuing shaking Carmella. She would wake up when the drug wore off. I didn’t want to keep shaking Rhee, so I thought for another way to wake her up. Should I slap her? Well, I’d use that as a last resort. Cold water? Yes! That worked in the movies! I dashed into the kitchen and picked up a pink plastic cup, turning on the sink and filling it to the brim with icy cold water. I ran back to the couch, spilling some on the way, and threw it in Rhee’s face. No answer. Well, there was only one thing left to do. I pulled back my hand and got ready to slap her—“Alex?” she asked, sitting up.

“Oh, hey. Are you okay?” I asked.

She rubbed her eyes. “What—what happened?”

“Umm…well, you got some news that…your father was murdered…and you passed out,” I mumbled.

“Wait, what? My father was murdered? I remember something like that..,” she murmured.

“Umm…yeah. Someone called, and told you he was…poisoned,” I continued.

“Oh, shit,” her eyes widened. “Alex, I gotta go,” she jumped off the couch and grabbed her beach bag which was sitting by the door. She rushed out the door, me calling after her, “Wait! Rhee, where are you going?”

But she didn’t look back. Or answer.

Rhee’s POV

I dashed out the door, tears brimming in my eyes. Why did this have to happen? I kept running until I was far away from the house and couldn’t run any more. I reached near a highway and sat down dejectedly on the curb, watching the cars go by.
A bunch of questions floated through my mind.

What would I do now?

Who would I live with now?

Who had murdered my dad?

Why had they murdered my dad?

Was I safe?

Too many questions, not enough answers. I was lost with no direction. Where would I go now? Not back to the Markins’ house, and I didn’t know how to go anywhere else. Maybe Solstice’s?

I began rummaging in my bag, wondering what I had in there. A beach towel, sunscreen, five dollars, a copy of Seventeen, sunglasses, a packet of brownies, a water bottle, some crackers, a bag of chips, headphones, lipgloss, eyeliner, and a banana. My iPhone, thankfully, was in my pocket.

How could this day get any worse? Suddenly, the sky crackled and thunder boomed. A few seconds later, it began raining. Oh, great. Just what I needed.

I pulled the hood of my gray hoody over my head and sat there, getting soaked. Cars kept going by, and people looked out at me, wondering who I was and why I was sitting there. But thankfully, no one made a move to help me or pick me up.

And suddenly, I let it all out. I began to cry. I sobbed for at least three hours, letting all my sadness, anger, and pain out.

“Miss?” a voice asked from above me. My head shot up and I swiped at my tear-streaked face with the sleeve of my hoody.

It was a police officer. He looked about in his mid-twenties, with close-cropped brown hair and dubious eyes. His name tag said Officer Willis.

“Yes, sir?” I croaked.

“Miss, it is a public violation to be sitting on a curb in the midst of traffic. Do you have a home?” he said.

I shook my head, not wanting to bring up the Markins.

“Well, then, I’ll just have to arrest you for vagrancy charges and disrupting a public area,” he sighed.

“Wait!” I cried. This could not be happening. Unless I wanted to end up in jail, I had to tell him about the Markins.

“Yes?” the police officer raised his eyebrows and sat down on the curb, two feet away from me.

I began to spill out the whole story, about my father’s murder, Alex, the Markins, the way my father had treated me, why I was in Virginia Beach, the fact that my mother was dead, and lastly, the phone call, my fainting, and how I got to this highway.
It took at least half an hour to tell him the whole story.

“Well, miss, I think I can make an exception. May I search your bag?” he asked. I handed him my bag, because I had nothing to hide. He emptied the contents of it, and shook out the magazine, beach towel, and looked in the tube of sunscreen.

“You’re clean,” he stuffed everything back in the bag and handed it to me, standing up.

“Miss, I’ll be back to patrol this highway late at night. You can stay here till then. If I see you here then, however, then I will arrest you,” he informed me while climbing back into his car. Before driving away, I swear he smiled and winked at me.

I smiled back at him, and then ate my brownies. I hadn’t eaten in at least eight hours, but I wasn’t that hungry.

I sat there in the rain, which had slowed to a drizzle, thinking. I pulled out my phone to check what time it was. 8:38 P.M.

I also had thirty missed calls from Mr. Markin, and one from Alex. Alex had called no more than five minutes ago. I touched the number, and it called him back.

“Rhee? Rhee! You need to get back home now. There are three police officers in our house and they’re making me and Carmella and Mom stand against the wall while they search our house. I’m on speakerphone right now. You need to get home,” he gasped.

“Okay,” I heard myself say. “I will.”

What other choice did I have? I couldn’t make the Markins suffer for my stupid decisions, especially when they’d all been so nice to me this summer.

I picked myself up and began walking towards home. Officer Willis wouldn’t have to arrest me after all.