Open Fields of Ohio

8 ••• Missing or Just Dead?

Kinda 'special' chapter:

Dawn's Point of View.

"Come on, dad, pick the damn phone," I mumbled into the phone. But it went straight to voice mail.

For the 638,272,592,978,252th time.

A few days after that calling, I went over to Tess's place and had lunch, went to work with him and made out a few hours later after dinner with him. I was worried about dad, since I freaking knew he had my phone number and he would've called me by now.

It's been more than nine months. And I've been growing so much more with Tess, and mom has been getting better, though still drinking, just a 3.9% less. And that was good enough. Tess saw my worry, and he made me feel better, taking me out and making me laugh for being clumsy on purpose. I love him for that.

"Hey, some guy named Zack asked me about you..." Tess told me, I looked up from my copy of The Elite, from Kiera Kass's Selection Series.

"Yeah?" I said, smiling a bit. "What'd he say?" Tess shrugged.

"Something about you hidding something." He said casually. I panicked. Did he know I was up to my dad again? Did he know I was worrying way to much? Did he know I was depress—???

"What'd you mean?" He looked up at me.

And grinned. Motherfu—

"He told you I was a director/playwriter?" He stopped grinning.

"You're a what now?"

Aaaand that's how I had to tell my directing life to Tess een though he actually meant that I was hidding from him that I literally loved to shop for lingeri on the weekends whenever I could.

I was lying in bed, listening to Ruelle's Monsters, it was my favorite song just now. The song stopped playing, about to change to Dominic Sherwood's Song for a Friend, but it took a second ir two too long, so I caught my phoen ringing just in time and picked it up. It was Tess.

"Meet me next Saturday. House date. You. Me. Movies. Chill?" I bit my lip at his sexy words.

"Sure, babe," I laughed. "But no chill, at all."

"Atall? Who's Atall?"

"Cocky Tess, stop watching Jeff Dunham's shows ... I'll kill you!" He burst out laughibg and so did I.

"Okay, just wanted to tell you, princess. I'll see you Saturday." He hung up and I shivered with excitement and anticipation. But I soon remembered about my dad and decided to call him again ... After one and a half ring, he answered. I stopped breathing. He actually answered. He answered!

"Dad, oh, gosh. Dad, I thought—"

"Stop calling, I'm not giving any money for his own doing," a woman with a freaking annoying voice said. "Not my fault, not the last one to see him. Get a life." And she hung up. She damn well hung up on me.

"Nu-uh, you don't hang up on me, girl," I said. No one hangs up on me ... een though my boyfriend dd a few whiles ago—that's not the point! I called again like eight times, but no one answered. So I did what any other normal would do: I waited for them to call again.

Sike! Not. You don't hang up on me.

I looked up the caller and tracked the call from my laptop: Paradise in Ohio, Paradise. Great. Just three hours from here, I put my laptop away and got my car keys even if it was ten minutes away to seven.

For three hours, well, one: I soed up to eighty the whole way. It was empty, don't be surprised. Gosh. I looked at the old house, it looked like the wind would make it fall, but stable enough. I knocked a few times, and I heard the same annoying voice from the phone call call out:

"What? Whatta ya want?" She called.

"I'm looking for, um, the lotery girl? She's, uh—" the door flew open, and anot so good looking middle aged woman smiled sexily at me. What the fuck?

"That would be me, ma'am." I sciffed and rolled my eyes.

"Save it, dude, I'm looking for Marcus, I'm—"

"He's dead, little lady. I've told everyone I could possible. Want proof? Ask the tombstone at Paradise's Cementary. Now go away, kid." She slammed the door on my face. But I held it open, grabbed her by the hair and slammed her face against the dokr, feeling a loud crunch frkm her nose come to my ears.

"Music to my ears, bitch," I said in a low and dangerous voice by her ear. She cried out and covered her nose, the blood flowing down her face brought me back to reality. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry. Hold your head up and get some ice. If it doesn't work: go to the hospital. I saw one five minutes from here."

And I left.

I didn't feel anything.

I didn't cry.

I didn't feel anger.

I didn't nothing.

I just walked to my truck and drove home doing 45. Long story short: I got home at eleven. I showered, went to bed and that's when it hit me and I cried. I cried like it was life or death with me.

I couldn't help it: I walked to my mom's bed and slept there, the bed big wnough for both of us, the big brown and blue room smelling like vanilla candles. I told her everything and she reacted te same way I did. She just didn't break anything, but cried with me.

I'm sorry.

-Skyler_Dawn💌