The End.
Chapter Two: It's How I Disappear
Chapter Two: It’s How I Disappear
I stared at the window for a few more seconds. This had to be nightmare. Alicia wouldn’t smack Mikey or leave him. But she just did. And I really need to learn to face that fact. Maybe she’ll come back. You never know right?
I turned to face Mikey. He was staring at his converse, his hair covering his face. I could see the red mark still on his face from when Alicia smacked him. Ouch. That must hurt. I walked over to him gently and put my arm around his shoulder. He’s in pain. I need to be there for him.
“You okay?” I asked him. He didn’t move for a couple of seconds. Of course he’s not okay. It’s obvious. But I should still ask.
Mikey rose his head gently, his hair falling away from his face as he nodded. He looked straight at me with his light brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’ll be okay,” he told me. He gave me the saddest smile I’d ever seen. A smile I never wanted to see on my little brother. Ever.
I smiled at him and patted his back comfortingly. He turned and I watched him walk off and hide behind the wooden door leading to the bunks. I heard it click softly and I looked at the door. Frank came inside.
“Hey,” he said. My shoulders dropped a little. “What’s wrong?”
“Didn’t you see?” I asked him. “Alicia left.”
“Yea. I was gonna ask you about that. How’s Mikey doing?”
“Mikey’s hurting right now. Badly.”
“I’d imagine.”
I then remembered. “What direction did you see her run anyway?”
“Why?”
“Well, we passed a gas station with a payphone a few miles back. Maybe she just went to blow off some steam and plans to call us.”
“I doubt it Gee.”
“Why?”
“She ran the other way. She was heading towards town. I saw her. I tried to ask if she was okay, but she just kept running after a called after her about ten times.” Frankie told me. This is horrible. She just runs away, not caring if Mikey’s okay or not.
“This is bad Frank,” I said, falling onto the couch. He sat down next to me. “This really isn’t good.”
“I know,” he replied, “Poor Mikey.”
“Poor Mikey’s right,” I told him, “I really don’t like this Frank. I hate this. I really do.”
“I know, I know,” he consoled. He rubbed my back consolingly as I thought.
I hope Mikey’s okay...
I stared at the window for a few more seconds. This had to be nightmare. Alicia wouldn’t smack Mikey or leave him. But she just did. And I really need to learn to face that fact. Maybe she’ll come back. You never know right?
I turned to face Mikey. He was staring at his converse, his hair covering his face. I could see the red mark still on his face from when Alicia smacked him. Ouch. That must hurt. I walked over to him gently and put my arm around his shoulder. He’s in pain. I need to be there for him.
“You okay?” I asked him. He didn’t move for a couple of seconds. Of course he’s not okay. It’s obvious. But I should still ask.
Mikey rose his head gently, his hair falling away from his face as he nodded. He looked straight at me with his light brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’ll be okay,” he told me. He gave me the saddest smile I’d ever seen. A smile I never wanted to see on my little brother. Ever.
I smiled at him and patted his back comfortingly. He turned and I watched him walk off and hide behind the wooden door leading to the bunks. I heard it click softly and I looked at the door. Frank came inside.
“Hey,” he said. My shoulders dropped a little. “What’s wrong?”
“Didn’t you see?” I asked him. “Alicia left.”
“Yea. I was gonna ask you about that. How’s Mikey doing?”
“Mikey’s hurting right now. Badly.”
“I’d imagine.”
I then remembered. “What direction did you see her run anyway?”
“Why?”
“Well, we passed a gas station with a payphone a few miles back. Maybe she just went to blow off some steam and plans to call us.”
“I doubt it Gee.”
“Why?”
“She ran the other way. She was heading towards town. I saw her. I tried to ask if she was okay, but she just kept running after a called after her about ten times.” Frankie told me. This is horrible. She just runs away, not caring if Mikey’s okay or not.
“This is bad Frank,” I said, falling onto the couch. He sat down next to me. “This really isn’t good.”
“I know,” he replied, “Poor Mikey.”
“Poor Mikey’s right,” I told him, “I really don’t like this Frank. I hate this. I really do.”
“I know, I know,” he consoled. He rubbed my back consolingly as I thought.
I hope Mikey’s okay...