Lauren Sanders has been left to start a 'new' normal life with her aunt and cousin after her family died. Everybody knows almost everything except for two things: Lauren's parents' mysterious death and her schizophrenia.
Lauren goes out on a mission...
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In the blinding light of the September afternoon, the wave of the heat bounces off on the roads, producing an impression of a wavering image. The muggy heat pressed on my skin. Sweating at this point just made me feel like I was in hell. The sweat trickled down my neck and back like some spicy broth. To say that it is making me uncomfortable is rather an understatement.
Lauren left me with a message about a meeting that we were expected to have earlier, which I didn't know until she mentioned it a few minutes ago. After a trip to Los Angeles last week, this was the first time I had heard from her again.
It was almost 3:30 in the afternoon. Thirty minutes ago, when a teacher dropped by to tell us that Mr. Johnson wouldn't make it for today's lecture because he had an emergency; classes had ended in my class.
Last week after our trip, I tried to contact Lauren, but all I got from her was cold replies and mostly her, leaving my messages on read or seen. I wanted to ask her about the note that she claims her sister wrote and hid behind the frame of the paintings.
To feed my curiosity, I went to Google and searched for Cora Sanders Paintings and Cora Sanders, alone. There was a picture on Google where she was in an art gallery wearing a black and white polka-dotted dress with her family. I click on the image as it dates back to the 7th of July 2010.
Next to her was a blonde girl wearing a yellow floral dress. Her hair had been tied into pigtails. Only then did I notice Lauren holding her hand, which I quickly assumed was her sister.
They looked almost identical, but if you look at their eyes, you can clearly tell the difference. Lauren has green specks in her eyes and as for her sister, she has chocolate-brown eyes. Lauren's eyes were round, almost almond-shaped.
"Walters," I hear Liam calling for my attention. I look up from my phone, squinting my eyes as I see him approaching me with his hand in his pocket.
"What's up?" He says, fist-bumping me.
"Just waiting for someone," I say, "How's the party last Friday?"
Last week, on Friday, Liam invited me to a party. A guy named Chris was throwing a party at someplace his parents rented for his birthday. I was planning to attend when all of a sudden Lauren agreed to see the painting last week when I showed her the picture of the painting on my phone, making me ditch my plans with Liam.
"It was a hell of a party. You should've been there," He says, bumping my shoulder, "Chris ordered giant tubs of ice cream and the kids made the biggest sundae I have ever seen."
"Wow," I say, not really sounding surprised, "That does sound like a hell of a party."
"What made you ditch our plan about going to the party together?" He brought it up.
I looked at him, shrugging my shoulders, "I-I had an important appointment."
I lied. We hear the exit doors swing open as a bunch of students begin to rush out of the building. I look back at Liam and he says, "Okay, sure," as he pats my shoulder, smirking at me.
