Elora Jane

Chapter 3

"Emily come on, you're going to make us late." My father says, standing in the kitchen in his nice tux, tapping his foot.

"Dad, you should be used to this by now." I tell him, taking a bite of my lucky charms, a smile on my face as I watch him grow impatient.

This was always like my mother. She's absolutely stunning without the amount of makeup she puts on and her hair being fixed. She doesn't believe that though, and spends hours trying to perfect perfection.

"I'm coming, hold your pants!" She yells back. We hear the bedroom door close and her heels on our wood hallway floors.

"It's about time." My dad says, a smile forming on his face as he sees my beautiful mother. Her blonde hair is curled and falls around her face, and her green eyes pop with the mascara and eye shadows she used.

"As always, you look beautiful." I tell my mom.

"Darling, you are way too sweet." She says, smiling.

"I just speak the truth." I say, laughing.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay tonight? Your father and I should be back around ten thirty." She says, grabbing her bag.

"Yes mother." I say.

"Stop with the mother." She says.

"You and dad have gone places for his job before, it's not the first time." I point out.

"Okay okay. I love you." She says.

"I love you more."

"But I love you most." She says, kissing my forehead and giving me a tight hug.

My father is next to kiss my forehead and hug me, assuring me that he loves me more than my mother, before they head out of the house, their laughter following them.

----

I wake up with a smile on my face and sit up. Once I become more aware of my surroundings, I find that I'm not in my room. I'm in the room at the Moore's, a house that is not even mine.

Tears start to fall as I think back to that night. The last thing I ever heard from my parents were their laughter as they walked out to go to the banquet where my dad was going to be announced head of the company; something he had worked so hard for since he got that job.

They were supposed to be home around ten thirty, and I always waited up for them to get home. It had been eleven when I started to worry. I called their phones and it went straight to voicemail each time. By eleven thirty, I started to freak out.

It was midnight by the time I heard the knock on my door. It had taken them a very long time to get them out of the car and to clean up the highway before finding out who each person involved were, and who to tell.

I remember denying the officer as he told me the news that my mother had been hit by a drunk driver and was killed instantly, as she was on the side they hit. My first thought was my father, was he okay? He told me that he was in critical condition, but it didn't look good. I remember him driving me to the hospital, only to be told that my father had died due to injuries and blood loss.

A Thursday night that was supposed to be a celebration for my dad finally getting what he worked so hard for, turned into horror.

I finally pull myself together and check the time, only to see that it's 3 am on Friday morning. I sigh and lay back down, grabbing my phone. I answer the messages I have from Blake and Rosa, and go to Twitter to scroll through my feed for a few minutes before turning it off and setting it on the nightstand.