This is Colorado

They got home around ten at night, from a search party.
My parents.
By the time they were here, she was wearing her paper bag.
Nebraska.
She turned it around so the eye holes were in the back.
My mom lunged for me, hugged me real tight.
"Where were you?" asked she.
My mother.
"Why did you go?" asked he.
My father.
"It's my fault."
Nebraska.
I shook my head.

She ended up living with our cousin, Aviella, out in the country side of Montana.
Nebraska.
She didn't want to go.
They said it would do her some good.
My parents.
They took her away from me.
And now I have him.
Hor-hey.
And I have her.
Chyou.
And that's all.