𝕋𝕠𝕠 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕂𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕐𝕠𝕦 ~ 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕝𝕠𝕣

**ARCHIVED**✰𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍✰

WHAT DO I DO?? ROGER IS IN TROUBLE AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE HE LIVES!!

I sit there on the couch, thinking.

I could go all over the neighbourhood looking for him... But I don't even have a car.

I think for a bit longer.

I could use google earth... Look for his bright blue 1970s model car...

I pull out my computer and try to find him. I don't know how to hack, but I can learn... Just not now.

I open Google earth to try and find roger. I zoom in on my neighbor hood and start scanning over the area I always see him heading to after school. I notice that most of the drive ways are covered by trees.

This is going to take forever.

Instead of using Google maps, I try searching up his name instead. All I got was Duran Duran stuff, so I put in our city name. I keep scrolling and scrolling.

A picture of him comes up.

I click on it in hopes that I might find his address.

and as i expected. nothing.

I keep searching and searching. i was up almost all night trying to find roger. there was just no hope.

i searched his name on 5 different search engines, attempted to hack his instagram account, (that almost worked actually) and i contemplated calling human services to get him out of there.

i shouldn't be calling anymore since someone else seems to have his phone kept away from him.

maybe i should stop off at the school and ask. no. they would call human services and get him taken away. then who knows if we'll ever see each other again.

i bury my face in my hands after turning off my computer, my eyes burning from all the strain i've put on them with hours and hours of screen time. i know it isn't good for me, but this is for rog.

i look down and check my old analog watch that used to belong to my mother. (it wasn't a woman's watch) i had just found it sitting on my grandmother's bed the day she left to go to the airport.

The watch reads 9:00pm. my doctor says i should be in bed by this time to try and improve sleep, and maybe fix my rushed speech and my stutter... and I've GOTTA fix my stutter.

i get undressed and get a steaming hot shower to try and calm myself. ever since rog had forced me to visit the doctor, I've been feeling better.

Rog is a good person and he knows what's good for me. unlike most people, rog is someone i really trust. now he should be able to trust me to try and get him out of there. his family really doesn't treat him right. god only knows what they've done with him.

they may have just piled a whole weeks worth of work on him, which i hope is the case. it could be way worse.

as i'm washing my hair, i can only use my right hand as the left is still healing. after the first few weeks, everything that touched the stitches seemed to feel like a thousand pins and needles stabbing in all at once.

Now it doesn't feel as bad. the hot water stings a bit... but it's not much to really matter.

i turn off the water and step out. i wipe some of the steam off the mirror and stare at myself. My curly hair all straightened out, the ends draped on my chest, dripping wet, the hot steam making me look really sweaty.

I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist, and another towel to wrap up my hair.

as i dry myself off, i begin to think. how will i find roger?

i carry this thought all the way to bed. i juggle some random ideas. some totally stupid and others smart and well thought out.

i eventually dose off to sleep without even knowing.