Tight-Knit Family

These Are The Games I Play

Emma

Let's get something straight, everyone is worried about where Dylan is.

It's been a few weeks since he ran away, and I haven't heard from him since. Charlotte and Cordelia haven't, Trina and Mendel haven't...no one has.

I sighed and pulled out my journal, which is actually Dylan's old notebook from when we were younger. The cover is a deep, navy blue with yellow stripes, and there's a sticky note on it that's on the verge of falling off. The sticky note says "Dylan Jacques!" in messy cursive in bold, black Sharpie.

I took a deep breath, pulled out my pencil, and started to write.

Dear Dylan,
Where are you? I miss you bunches and I just want you home and safe...we're all worried about you. Even Dad came to the house the other day to ask where you were...and I ran up to him, cried in his arms, and told him how much I missed him...and you.
Dad moved out of Papa's house. They're officially done, and I've started switching my time between Charlotte and Cordelia's house and Dad's house. It's a really good system, and I'm happy we managed to make it all work. But I'm not as happy without you there.
Please, please tell me that wherever the hell you are, you're safe. And...you haven't forgotten about me, your twin sister. I love you so, so, so much, Pickle.
I miss you
~Em

I sighed and put the journal on what would've been Dylan's bed if he hadn't run away. The bed is completely made, it's perfect, even, since no one's slept in it ever. Charlotte and Cordelia spoiled us rotten, getting us new furniture and clothes, driving us everywhere, letting us try out whatever sport and extracurricular we wanted...they were the cool aunts who spoiled us even before everything went down in flames.

I took a deep breath and then crawled into my bed, putting my pillow on my face and crying my eyes out, just getting all these emotions out while I had a chance. I just wanted to be alone, I wasn't in the mood for being comforted or being told it was going to be alright. 

Everything will be alright, that's what people are always saying to me. 

Everything will be alright...
Everything will be alright...

But will it? There's so many reasons to doubt those words, I can't even count them all on one hand. My brother's gone for God knows how long, my family's absolutely falling apart, I haven't talked to my partner in forever...

I was staring at the ceiling for so long that I lost track of time, I completely forgot how long I've been in this position and laying in my bed. 

And then the doorbell rang, snapping me out of my fantasy.

"I got it!" I yelled, scrambling out of my bed and running towards the front door. I opened the door and to my surprise, Dad was standing there.

"Dad?" I asked, offering to let him in the house. "Dad, what's going on? Is everything alright?"

Dad refused to come in the house for some reason, he just stood on the front steps and sighed.

"It's about Dylan."