20 Dollar Nose Bleed

Our shift ended with nothing exciting to tell. It was boring to say the least but we got to play with the kittens at least. When we got back I went to make dinner while Sunday set the table. We at in almost complete silence. That was until I remembered William handing her the card. It seemed like such an unusual thing to do I just had to ask.

"What did that William boy give you earlier?" I asked just as she put a mouthful of food in her usually babbling gob.

"Hmph." she complained and narrowed her eyes at me.

"Sorry I don't speak mong." I sniped back.

"You better sleep with your eyes open." she snapped and we both laughed.

"For your information he gave me his number. Is that a problem?" she said raising an eyebrow.

"Not at all. I'm just wondering what you plan on doing with it." I leaned forward in my chair inspecting her.

"Well. I don't know. It's not like I know him at all. Maybe I'll run into him again. Then we'll see."

"Ooooooohhh you like him!!" I giggled immaturely.

"No I don't shut up. Anyway you can't say much! You and Brendon seemed to be hitting it off."

"Hell no. There's something weird about him. I just can't put my finger on it."

We talked like this for a while before I decided it was time to go to sleep. After telling Sunday that she should retire for the night too I headed upstairs. Unsurprisingly she just grunted at me.

Walking through my door I realised the light was already on. Now usually I wouldn't be freaked out but on this occasion I remember turning it off before I left. I frowned and went to look around. Everything was in the same place except from the picture of me and my sister with our Mum and Dad. That was on a different set of drawers.

I moved it and sighed. Sunday had probably come in to my room before she came down and moved it without remembering to tell me. After opening a window, I changed into my pajamas and laid in my bed with my hands on my stomach. I don't know when I fell asleep.
Sunday didn't come to bed that night. I know this because when my alarm went off at 6:30am I went into her room to wake her up only to find it unoccupied and obviously unused. This meant she had fallen asleep downstairs. Wrong.

She wasn't there either. The TV was turned off and there was no sign of her. After checking the rest of the house and confirming that no she wasn't in here and hadn't been for a while I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. Voicemail. This was where I begun to realise that something was indeed wrong. Sunday always answered her phone. No matter what.

I decided she must have gone into work early, maybe she had got a call, and that I shall go check when I'm ready.

Upon arriving at work I found out that Sunday hadn't turned up that day and hadn't come in early. I realised there was something dreadfully wrong and took the day off to look for her.
Sunday didn't come home that day. Or that night. Or, in fact, any other day of the week. The Police are still looking for her now but they believe the worst. I refuse to believe she is dead. She can't be dead. I would have felt something surely.

I stayed in the house, afraid to move out in case she came back looking for me, for months and months. The Police stopped looking, although they are still investigating it, but I haven't given up hope.

It's nearing Christmas now which meant the annual trip to the parents'. This will be our first Christmas without Sunday. Alone, I got the train to their town.