I really hoped my parents would pick up my calls. Unfortunately, I’m not that lucky. I blankly gaze into the bathroom mirror as I try to think of what else I could do to find them without having to search the entire UP. I don’t even know if they’re in this sector, much less this layer, so that would be a last resort. I lower my head and grasp at my hair while silently screaming, tugging so hard I pull out a couple strands. Fuck, I’m so stressed.

This may seem like an overreaction, but my parents never go AWOL. Almost never. One time in fifth grade I returned home from a sleepover to find a note from my dad saying he went on a groceries trip. After I texted him asking if he was still there, and would he get ice cream for me if he was, he burst through our front door five minutes later with bags of groceries hollering about how sorry he was to leave me alone. He had gotten the ice cream and come home in the span of five minutes, which should’ve been impossible. Since then, my parents have never left me home alone or ignored any of my calls or texts, so right now I’m feeling very disoriented.

Shaking off all the resurfacing memories, I take a deep breath and turn around to open the bathroom door, walking out to where Daisy is. I stand across from her, folding my arms and trying not to look like I was having a mental and emotional breakdown in the bathroom.

She speaks first. “Your parents aren’t answering any of your calls or texts, even the ones claiming that I’ve turned into an ax murderer and am trying to kill you, so do you finally admit that we need to go look for your parents?”

After a brief internal battle, I nod my head reluctantly, Daisy squeaks out a surprised ‘ok,’ and then we stare at each other for an awkward second before she practically leaps towards the door leading outside to get away from this moment. I panic for a second, realizing that she’ll leave me behind at this rate.

“Waitwaitwaitwait I need to get my shit together first.”

She pauses for a second, nodding her head, and continues walking away, no fucks given. Rude.

Racing back to my room, I grab my backpack and stuff it with my phone, laptop, and their chargers. I really don’t want to be stuck in unfamiliar territory with devices that have a battery life equal to a teenage boy’s- actually, I probably shouldn’t finish that thought, don’t want to think of that** every time I plug in my phone.

Hurrying towards the door, I catch a glimpse of my mom’s set of keys on the counter. I hesitate for a second, then grab and shove it in my pocket. It’s not like she’ll need it, right? Besides, I’m not irresponsible enough to try opening doors to restricted areas with the keys.

Haha, right. I’m totally snooping. ‘In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity’, as Einstein puts it. How fitting.

Daisy’s already outside the door waiting. Seeing me, she turns right and starts walking down the hallway. I follow her but stop dead in my tracks when I see my mom sprawled out in a pool of blood with her throat torn. I almost hurl, but only the pure shock and denial of what I’m seeing keeps me from discarding the contents of my stomach. I start violently shaking and my hands reach up to my eyes and scratch at the lids. What is happening what is happening whatishappeningwhatishap-

“What is it?” I freeze when I look out of the corner of my eye and see Daisy turn around to talk to me, as if she’s confused why I stopped following her.

I tear my eyes away from the corpse and look up in horror at Daisy, then at the floor again, and my mom and the pool of blood have disappeared. Looking back up, I realize that my fingers had scratched painful tracks next to my eyes. Taking a deep breath and recovering as quickly as possible, I silently shake my head and continue following her, choosing to stay silent in the hopes that it meant nothing. I’m pretty sure I’m not that lucky, though.

“Nothing,” I say with a bright smile, “let’s go.”