Missing [ST]

Fifty

Ninth of April: Three Days Later

A lot could happen in seventy two hours, admittedly, a lot did happen at first, but after those shocking run of events, there had been next to nothing.

Leah left the hospital utterly distraught, heavy in her heart, and with the utmost refusal to process the real world around her.

She returned home to her parent's house inexplicably quiet for her standards, because whilst she had endured yet another blurred out car journey, she had been reminded of the person that she hadn't really started grieving for.

She found herself taking the stairs to his room instead of her own, curling up into a ball on his untouched bed that barely had his scent lingering on the pillows.

Her mum or dad brought her something to eat, tried talking to her, but Leah couldn't bring herself to have more than a bite of toast, or express anything more complicated than a nod or shake of the head.

After a certain point, she couldn't even cry.

She just felt so alone. A gaping pit that she was forced further down every time she stared at the football posters on navy walls, the England scarf pinned proudly above his door, the neat shelf of vinyl's with a few classic records he had stolen from her own collection, and the decent acoustic guitar that hadn't been picked up in years.

There was a trophy cabinet in a small alcove with numerous medals on display, awards in all shapes and sizes, and ranged from his first under eights football team, all the way to the under twenty ones.

Recognition for the most improved player one season, to the most assists presented on a silver plaque the next, and rightfully his captain band placed in the centre around the photos of his celebrating friends for his senior years at semi-pro club level.

There was runner's up stuff too amongst the wins, crushing at the time it was given, but to reflect back on years later, always brought back the positive highlights from the mini tournaments and tense cup finals.

Jake's idol was David Beckham. He played midfield because of him. He played football because of him. He looked up to him in every way possible and cried when he left the Red Devils for Real Madrid.

He used to record games when he was younger onto tapes to watch back and learn aspects of Beckham's gameplay and incorporate it into his own. Practising free kicks in the garden for hours on end, crossing drills with dad and spending all of his free time with a battered football glued to his feet.

After all, Jake had been kicking a football before he could walk properly.

Leah was dragged along most Sunday afternoons when she was younger (even in the pouring rain), but she was so glad that she had gone and could now appreciate every moment she had spent with him.

Moments like when he made her play fifa on the PlayStation after most school days if he couldn't have his friends over. He wasn't best pleased however when she beat him one day, and after that, he wasn't so bothered choosing her as an opponent.

Who knew constant practice paid off.

But Jake was her brother and as much as they were polar opposites with regards to what they chose in their career paths, they also had a common ground of music, and he was far too young to be taken from this world.

Leah dozed off occasionally, the strain of her eyes deceiving the details, but sleep was impossible when she kept waking up with the panicked reminder of where she lay.

Grief had finally made an appearance, and it was not going easy on her.

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There was a soft knock on the door.

Leah was blindly awake, but she ignored it like all the other times, and let the company join her without her permission.

She stared at the chip in the paint on the wall that her nail was responsible for, and waited for the dip of the mattress.

"The station called." Her dad's voice registered in her ears, as did the gentle touch on her back.

It was new- not his hand on the blanket that covered her- but the words that didn't ask if she wanted to come downstairs to stretch her legs which she already did by walking to the bathroom when she had too, or to try enticing her with her favourite meal.

"Asking if you wanted to...say goodbye," he continued, a tone that was reluctant to tell.

Leah didn't blame him. He still didn't know because she hadn't told him. She pictured the hurt that she was causing, every extra grey in his hair that was growing out, and every line etched more deeply into his face.

She hadn't gone back. She hadn't visited any of them. They'd slipped her mind completely because it was only Jake.

Idiot, lovable, Jake.

Still, Leah did the unthinkable and rolled over onto her back so his hand slid onto the crumpled duvet that she had indented her weight into.

"What day is it?"

God, her voice sounded awful. She must have looked the part too. Hair in greasy tangles, rings under her eyes, but she was looking up at her exhausted father whose strong shell had been cracked, and appearance was dishevelling with a thickening beard catching up the moustache under his nose.

"The ninth," he informed.

Leah was silent.

"His name was Evan- the guy I spoke to." Louis glanced out the window where half of the blind obscured the daylight. Trying to keep the touchy subject going despite how tense it was making him. "Think it was him I met when you went back the other day?"

"Yeah," Leah mumbled, caught deciphering the micro expressions in every tug of his brow. "It was."

Louis nodded downwards at the tiny ball of paper he was rubbing between his thumb and middle finger.

"He said you don't have to, but apparently it was...requested."

Leah watched him under her droopy eyelids. The side of his face from the angle he perched at. The thin, crew neck sweater over a shirt and tie.

"I do," she said, realising she needed a drink to soothe her throat. "I'd like to say goodbye."

And she did. She really did. Because she didn't want to cause her family any more pain.

If she dealt with it, let them go, she wouldn't have to lie. She could work on reclaiming the distance she had caused. That same distance kept increasing even now, and only she had the power to stop it.

"Well, I can drive you on my way to work, but you need to be ready in half an hour." The dark brown eyes landed on hers, and his eyebrows raised gently under the stiffened quiff of his hair. "Is that okay?"

It must have been his first day back, because Leah hadn't recalled him leaving early, but then maybe it wasn't. Maybe he hadn't taken any time off at all. She didn't know because she had barely spoken to him. Or her mum.

"Yeah," Leah said, in the same quiet, monotonous voice. "I'll have a shower and get dressed."

This was her first step to fix everything. She just hated that the third day had arrived so soon.

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