Gone (Ianthony)

Two Months, One Week, Five Days, and One Hour Before

Anthony:     

I'd had a lot of strange experiences with my best friend's mother.

The amount of sexual references I had made in videos referring to her being the most obvious; the "Ian's Mom" joke being one of the most famous in the Smosh world. 

I'd had to shoot some pretty weird videos with her, also.

But the strangest experinces were non-Smosh related - when Ian and I were fifteen and she caught me sneaking through his window in the middle of the night after she'd said I couldn't come over, in high school when Ian's sister had jokingly told her that Ian and I were gay. 

But despite all that, I didn't know the definition of a "strange experience with my best friend's mother" until today.

I honestly never thought I would sit in her house with her as she told me I was crazy for thinking her son was alive. But life was unpredictable life that, I guess.

I glanced up at her and she just raised her eyebrows at me, sipping from her water glass. Neither of us had said anything in a while. But it wasn't awkward; it was just like I was sitting in a room with my mom.

June 29th 2003.    

I kept saying the date over and over in my head, like it would make a difference. Like maybe if I said it, I don't know, two thousand times, I would suddenly remember what happened on that day. But I had to have said it well over five thousand. And nothing.

I'd gone through every scrapbook from high school left in Ian's old house three times now, and there was nothing from June 29th, 2003. 

"Anthony." 

Ian's mom sighed, leaning forward in her chair.

"You know I hate to do this, but I really need to-"

"Just give me five more minutes," I interruped, opening the first book again. On the cover was a picture of Ian with his whole entire group of friends. I was right next to him, smiling.

I felt her trying not to get angry. I would have gotten angry. But I didn't care.

She placed her hand on the book and gently took it from me, closing it and setting it back on the top of the stack.

"Look, Anthony."

She tried to look me in the eyes, but it must have been hard, because as soon as my eyes found hers' she looked away. I felt bad.

"I'm really glad you're so... determined. But..."

She sighed. I knew what she was going to say. But I didn't stop her. Maybe I needed to hear it.

"Look, it's just... I know it's hard. I know it is. I was his mother. It's just... Anthony, I know you're in denial. I was for a while too. Trust me. But... But everyone else has accepted it. It's been almost a month, and..." Her eyes finally met mine. "It's time you did too."

I stared at her for a while. If I focused hard enough, I could only see her eyes, and for a brief moment, I felt like I was talking to Ian.

"Anthony, I'm sorry. I know how hard it is. But life is hard." She shook her head. "I think we're gonna schedule the funeral soon, and we'd really like you to speak, if you wouldn't mind."

I shook my head.

"You can't have a funeral for someone who isn't dead."

She finally looked away, taking a deep breath.

"Anthony-"

"Look, I'm not giving up. He obviously wanted me to find him, so I'm going to. I've gotten this far already." I stood up. "He's alive. I don't know how to make that any clearer. So no, I won't speak at his funeral, because there's no need for one, and there won't be for a very long time."

I walked toward the door.

"So, I'm going to ask you one more time: do you remember anything that could have happened on June, 29th, 2003?"

|||

I didn't find out until three days later.

I had spent the whole entire three days lying in his bed, my eyes closed, repeating the date over and over again to myself. I had worried it wasn't the right date. I mean, Ian put all his trust in some random teenager. His fate and mine in the hands of a fifteen year old boy who probably only thought about food and sex.

And then, just as I was probably about to die of starvation and limited sleep, my phone rang.

I ignored it.

It rang again.

Twice.

Three times.

I finally rolled over and turned the screen towards me.

My eyes widened. I shouldn't have answered. But I did. And I only regretted it for a second.

"H-hello?"

"June 29th, 2003?"

"How the hell do you know that?"

"I know what it means."