Torn

Chapter Three

Torn; Chapter Three:

I decide to go for a walk although I know the reporters will be everywhere. I get dressed in sweatpants and a gray hoodie. I pull on my gray Vans and grab my iPhone. I step outside, drowning in the early morning sun. I don't see many people, but I know they will be around soon. My phone vibrates in my hand. I read the name on the screen: Uncle Simon.

"Hey, Madi," his gruff voice says through the phone.

"Hey."

"How are you, dear?" he asks. I roll my eyes, even though he can't see me.

"My parents died two days ago, and you're asking me how I am. Let's think about this for a minute. If your mom, dad, and sister died, how would that make you feel?" I ask him.

"Okay, okay, Ms. Attitude. Anyway, I am flying in tomorrow for the funeral on Thursday, then on Friday, we are flying back here."

"Wait, we?"

"Yes, you and I. Start packing. The house is being sold to the bank."

"THIS IS MY HOUSE!" I protest. People begin to crowd around the space where I am sitting on the sidewalk. Another set of tears brim my waterline. I try to hold them back, now knowing the ABC news crew are here also. "YOU CAN'T SELL MY HOUSE!"

"Madison, it isn't YOUR house. You are only 17. You cannot legally live there alone. People know you're alone. Once you turn 18, if you truly want to move back to America and live in that house, I will buy it for you."

"WHAT IF THEY DON'T HAVE IT AVAILABLE! Uncle Simon, I will see you tomorrow. Good-bye," I say, ending the conversation. I looked at the people around me, recognizing a few from school, but I didn't speak to them. I got up, dusting my pants off, and pushed passed them. Nobody understood the pain I was going through. Nobody ever would.

I got to the park and sat down on a bench. The leaves rustled in the wind as children ran around, playing as if nothing was wrong. The innocence was adorable, but the laughter was unbearable. I thought back to the days when Amanda and I would come to the park and sit here, just watching the children run and play. We used to think of names for our children, but all that was over. Now I had nobody to do that with. A tear trickled down my face. I had cried so much in the past few days. Nothing seemed right.

"Are you alright?" a woman asked. She sat down beside me. I looked up at her. Her perfect blond hair and dark brown eyes reminded me of my sister.

"Um.. y-yeah," I stutter, "just a lot of things have gone on this week." I don't mean to rub my unhappiness off on her, but everything I say is true.

"Wait, you're Madison Kesler, aren't you?" She eyes me, waiting for an answer. I suppress my anger and nod. She smiles weakly and pats me on the back. "I'm sorry." She gets up, calling her daughter to go.

"Way to be nice to someone," I mutter to myself. I get up to start home. The pavement under my feet make my knees buckle beneath me. I hit my elbow on the concrete, causing it to start bleeding. I rub it on my hoodie, but that doesn't help. I lay on the ground, my face buried in my knees, crying. "Why is life so damn hard?" I whisper as the cries get louder.