Gone (Ianthony)

Three Weeks, One Day, and Fourteen Hours Before

Anthony:     

For well over a week, I really, truly, for the first time in my life, wanted to die.

I had honestly lost all hope. For the first time in my life, I had nothing to hold onto. No Ian, no girlfriend, I still hadn't spoken to my mom, and all my other friends had eventually stopped caring about me. I was truly alone. I had no one. 

I had no hope of finding him. Somehow, I knew that paper was it. Every time I doubted it, said, "no, we'd listened to that song so many times over the years, it could be a million things," I couldn't believe it. I knew that wasn't some random piece of paper. That was his piece of paper he had left for me.   

And it was the only way to find him. Each specific clue led to another specific clue, and if that sequence was interrupted, that was it. It was over.

It was over.

Those same words burned through my head like wildfire for nearly ten days, as I barely left his bed. It was so pathetic; all day, I laid staring at the ceiling, not even thinking. I just laid there feeling sorry for myself. But there was nothing else to do. The one way to find him was probably rotting in a landfill somewhere, and there was nothing I could do about it.

For the first few days, I hated Ian's whole family. Hated how they hadn't even bothered to look at the paper before pitching it, hated how they ruined everything for me. But then I realized they missed him just as much as I did, and probably hated themselves for it. 

I tried to tell myself that everything happens for a reason; maybe he really was leading me to his dead body and it was better to not even make it. But I knew that wasn't true. He expected me to find him. I was supposed to find him. And I failed.

I had nothing left. 

For the first time, the whole "suicide watch" thing actually had some sort of purpose.

|||

It was only after my phone had rang seven continuous times at eleven o'clock at night that I forced myself out of bed, my stomach growling and vision blurring at the effort.

It was Ian's sister.

I answered without even thinking about it. 

"Yeah?!" I asked, my voice a little too hopeful.

It was quiet for a moment. I tried not to let my hopes fall without letting them raise too high, either.

"Anthony... there's been a miracle here tonight."

|||

I couldn't keep my hands from shaking as I ran up the stairs, passing Ian's dad asleep in front of the TV. By now, I was immune to going to my best friend's parents' house at odd times. It didn't phase me in the slightest.

Her door was open. I saw her suitcase propped up against the opposite wall, and I knew that if she didn't hurry, she would surely miss her flight.

I entered the room slowly, glancing at her as she sat on her bed, the piece of paper folded between her fingers. She looked up at me; it wouldn't take a genius to discover she had definitely been crying.

I sat down next to her, somewhat hesitantly, but she didn't seem to mind. She only sniffled and wiped her eyes, biting her lip as she looked up at me.

"I was emptying my trash can, and..." She let out a short, breathy laugh, looking down at the paper. "I swear to God, I'd never seen anything weirder. It was just... It was just stuck to the bottom."

She shook her head. I really couldn't believe it. I had to be dreaming. Either that, or I had finally died of starvation and this was my version of Heaven.

Her hand extended out, the paper latched between her first few fingers. I took it slowly, not having the stomach to unfold it yet.

"This is just so crazy," she continued, sobbing. "Not even just the paper. This whole thing. Ever since she..."

I only nodded, trying to hold back tears myself. It had been hard to cry lately, just because I wasn't even sad, I was just... empty. But it became real when someone else was right in front of me.

"I just don't want him to die. I can't lose my little brother."

I lost it then. It became too vivid. She couldn't lose her little brother, I couldn't lose my best friend.

"I'm gonna find him," I deadpanned, staring at the paper; a tear dripped down and landed softly on the sheet. "I can promise you, I'm gonna bring your little brother home."

I unfolded the paper then.

Saugatuck, MI