Missing

As if this was all about me, only I wasn’t fortunate enough to be told anything about it.
I was boiling.
Wait until they got home.
Wait until they heard from me.
In a rage, I flew up to my bedroom.
I flopped down on my bed and buried my head under my pillow.
I must have lain there for almost two hours, going over and over everything in my head.
I was missing and no one had even bothered to tell me.
Showed they really cared hey?
Actually, the more I thought about it, the more things seemed to pop into my head that backed up my theory.
Like the way that they seemed to have conveniently forgotten to book to jukebox for my party next week so when I rang up to confirm it, they were all out for that day and none under my name.
And how last week, I had been ordered to give up my bigger room to my brother and move into his room which was half the size!
And what about how the my brother always seemed to get all the easy chores while I was the one who had to clean the attic and clean the outside of that blasted room’s windows by dangling from a ladder on a steamy hot day.
And, by far the last straw, was how they managed to clear out all my old toys and clothes and memories from the basement only to make more room to put my brother’s things.
As if my past wasn’t as important as his.
All those things which had only seemed annoying at the time, now seemed infuriating.
Yet, for the first time they seemed to make sense.
Maybe, just maybe, my ever loving parents had decided that they didn’t want me anymore.
Maybe they had decided to somehow get rid of me.
Maybe they were planning to eliminate me from the world, piece by piece, (first from the country as a missing person so no one would question when I was gone) distance themselves from me to finally lock me up in the attic to stave to death!
(hey, I knew about this stuff, I’d seen ‘Flowers in the Attic’)
I sat stunned on my bed, unable to grasp the horrible truth I was slowly but surely unravelling.

Four
Six

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