iii. THE LONELY GRAVEYARD KID

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CHAPTER THREETHE LONELY GRAVEYARD KID

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CHAPTER THREE
THE LONELY GRAVEYARD KID

This night only seemed to get worse.

  When Scott had finally sliced the rope to let him down we had ventured around the Hale house. All four of us we're praying that there would be a sign of Lydia. Even though Scott was one hundred percent certain that her scent had led to the decrepit house, it was as if no had been there. There wasn't a single trace of the girl, just like at the hospital.

  We finally decided to call it quits for the night and we all went home with crushed hopes. We hadn't found Lydia and she was still out there. After Scott and Allison had been dropped off, Stiles had brought me home. I wanted to invite him in when I saw that the light in the house was on.

  My dad was home.

  "You have got to be kidding me," I muttered, ripping my seat belt from the socket. It popped out with an angry click.

  Stiles leaned forward and took one look at the house. "Your dad's home?"

  "That'll make it the..." I paused, counting in my head. "Sixth time since we started school."

  He gave me a quizzical look. "I thought he was only home for the first two days we were in school?"

  "Oh no, he was there a couple more times. I just ignored him. Not that he notices," I mumbled.

  Stiles smiled weakly at me; a pitiful smile. Just like his mother, my parents were a touchy subject. Two years after Mrs. Stilinski passed away, my mother was gone from my life as well. Only, my mother chose to leave.

  She disappeared much like Lydia did. No note, no forgotten belongings, nothing. She left one night when my dad was pulling the graveyard shift at the office and I had gone to Stiles house to play video games with him and Scott. That was her only open window. When I had left, she had still been there, baking cookies. When I came home, the only thing left were a plate of chocolate goodness.

  I didn't really think anything was wrong at the point. I thought maybe she had been called into work. Or maybe she went next door to help our elderly neighbor with something. So I went upstairs and went to bed.

  My first clue should have been that I didn't hear her come home before I fell asleep. She had had instances before where she left me alone but would be back within an hour tops. But my twelve year old self didn't think anything of it.

  But when I woke up the next morning, she was gone. My father had come home an hour before I had woken up. He thought it was curious too. We didn't even think of the idea of her leaving us. It just wasn't an option. But when my dad found that all her stud was gone, it only cemented the lingering thought of it.

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