Chapter Three

At that point, I had no idea what to do. My abilities were too limited.

I heard a door slam. Out of instinct, I ran outside and followed my mother walking down the street. A few minutes later she turned onto the field of children and walked into the school. Moments later she ended up in the principal’s office. I trailed in behind her as she opened the door. The office smelt of lavender, a candle was lit on the desk. Several pictures hung on the wall above a large bookshelf. There was a picture of each grade and a few drawings that kindergarteners had made for her. Ah, the one I drew her 6 years ago in grade 1. A sunflower because I thought her Ms Corner’s hair was as beautiful as a golden sunflower. Ms Corner was sorting out her book shelf.

Cough cough. My mom coughed to get her attention. Ms Corner spun around in shock. She was startled. I couldn’t help but laugh at her face. Ms Corner was naturally beautiful, I remember being slightly jealous of her when I was younger. Her hair was usually tied up in a ponytail with several pieces hanging out at the front. Her eyes were a hopeful blue that always reminded me of the ocean, she wore big round glasses occasionally, I’m not sure if they were perscription or just for show but either way they looked nice on her. She was slightly taller than my mother with a beautiful figure in the shape of an hourglass.

“Oh hello Ms Cornaccia!” she said, still in shock.

“Have a seat!” she gestured to the chair in front of her desk. Mom threw her purse over her shoulder and sat on the chair. Ms Corner leaned on the desk in front of her.

“So, we have a problem…” said mom, holding in her tears.

“And what might that be Ms Cornaccia?” she asked with a concerned look on her face.

“My daughter...Sierra...sorry” mom covered her mouth and a tear spilled from her eye.

“Oh no problem Ms Cornaccia” Ms Corner said sympathetically.

Mom sniffled. “Sierra… went missing” she cried as she let her sadness over take her.

Ms Corner gasped in horror. “Ohmigosh! I’m so sorry Ms Cornaccia!” she said sliding around her desk. She tapped my mom on the shoulder.

“Should we notify the school?” she asked. Mom shrugged but I knew that meant a yes. NO! DON’T NOTIFY THE WHOLE SCHOOL! I didn’t want the whole school to know that I was “missing”. People are looking around for me for no reason. Wasting their time.

Mom stood up and nodded at Ms Corner, signifying that she was leaving. I rolled the bubble out of the door, following her. She walked back home with her head held down. I heard her sniffle. I couldn’t even imagine what she must’ve been going through. But I was going through stuff too. I was trapped in a bubble and no one could hear me. I started becoming angry. Mom thought she was going through things but at least she could tell someone about it! No one was listening to me! It’s so annoying and frustrating. Mom unlocked the car door and threw herself into the driver’s seat. I sat next to her. The bubble was convertible so it could fit into different spaces. I stared at mom angrily, wishing that she would stop crying. She backed out of the driveway, stones crunching underneath the tires. She drove somewhere where I’d never been. The road was made of dirt and not concrete. We were in the country and not in the city anymore. There were no tall buildings or apartments. There was only tiny houses and farms with cows chewing up the grass. We rounded a corner driving down the dirt path. She was driving slowly since the dirt was hard to drive on. Each of the houses looked very different from the others. One was yellow with a white door and two small windows at the side that held flower pots. That one seemed to only have one floor. Another one was very tall and wasn’t painted at all. It was kind of creepy since there was an arched tree like the ones you would see in movies. They didn’t even seem like they should be in the same neighbourhood. It’s like putting Cinderella’s castle next to Snow White’s shack and calling it the same street. We parked in front of house 56 on Avant Garde street. I loved that street name. She got out of the car and walked up to the house door. This house was more different from the others than the yellow house and the creepy house. It almost seemed like a house where a murder could happen. Also, had the person that lived here ever been outside to clean up their house? The front porch was covered in crispy dead leaves and the grass was so long and covered in weeds that I wondered if it had been cut in 1000 years. The windows were broken and glass rained down on the roof making a clinking sound. The blue paint was peeling of the edges leaving slices of paint on the black concrete. The blue was like Ms Corner’s eyes. I would never see them the same again. The garage door was open revealing several axes hanging on the wall and rakes laying on the wooden tables. A big number 56 stuck on the door, the six however was hanging upside down. Mom stood in front of the door, staring at the peeling paint. The house was very small. It was probably half the size of my house. It wasn’t made of brick, it was made of wood. It was almost like a big shed. Mom took a deep breath and held it. She knocked on the door slowly. Mom was stiff, her eyes wide on the door. The door slowly opened. “Dianna?” a deep voice asked from the crack of the door.

“What are you doing here?” the voice asked.

“Open the door” she said harshly.

Who could it be? He sighed and opened the door. The man standing in the house was tall with dark brown hair in a buzz cut. He had dark skin, the same colour as mine. He seemed slightly familiar but I’m not sure from where he came from. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Come in”

He walked us- her into a small living room. The house was quite a bit bigger from the inside than it looked on the outside. But it was even messier believe it or not. The wooden floor was littered with crumpled pieces of paper and empty grape juice boxes, several were dripping purple liquid. It smelled of dead skunk in the house like the house was sprayed with skunk spray. Mom sat down on a green, floral couch looking uncomfortable to be in such a disgusting environment. The man sat on a separate couch that was the same colour but a bit bigger.

“So, why are you here?” he said grouchily.

“Sierra…” she sighed, “went missing”

The man closed his eyes and frowned. “When did this happen?” he asked, holding in what seemed to be anger.

Mom was quiet for a few seconds. “Last week”

The man’s eyebrows went down. He was angry. He stood up and stomped over to mom. He had an evil snarl. Mom looked terrified. I wished I could help but I just watched from the doorway in shock.

“DIANNA, WHY WOULDN’T YOU TELL ME THIS BEFORE?” he yelled, slobber spitting from his mouth.

“STOP!” I yelled but remembered that they couldn’t hear me and felt embarrassed.

“I’m sorry Brad, I just didn’t want you to get angry” she cried.

“WELL I’M ANGRY NOW! HOW COULD YOU LOSE HER?”

“Brad, calm down” she said in a soothing voice.

He growled and stormed back to the seat. “I can’t calm down if my daughter is missing Dianna!” he yelled sadly.

Daughter? Oh my gosh! This was my dad?

“If you- they don’t find her you are not going to live to see your next day!” he exclaimed.

I whisper screamed. He would kill her if I wasn’t found? This man was dangerous. He was going to kill my mother. I had to find a way out. As soon as I was about to roll out of the room with my mother something caught my eye. On the coffee table in front of him was two envelopes ripped open. Two papers side by side. One with the words written in sloppy writing I’m in here! The other said Can anybody see me? And a name that had been scratched out. I gasped. The letters had gone to my dad. The paper and pencil appeared again. I snatched the pencil and grabbed a paper and wrote CAN ANYBODY HELP?!

  Once we got home I rolled into my bedroom and curled myself into a ball and cried. I paused. What was the point of crying? It wasn’t going to help anything. Everything was going wrong! First of all, I was trapped in a bubble, second my dad was getting my letters and last HE WAS GOING TO KILL MY MOM! No, I wouldn’t let that happen. But how could I not. If I was outside of the bubble I would yell at my dad and he would listen. I was his daughter and if I didn’t agree with him doing something like that he wouldn’t. Wait a second. Did I actually believe that my dad would kill my mom? No way. Oh but he doesn’t even know about Alia yet. If he ever found out about her he would actually kill her. My dad couldn’t be that much of a bad person. A flash passed through my head. Mom was standing in the living room and my dad had a knife stuck to her neck. “NO!” I screamed. I hid my face in my hands. What was wrong with me? This bubble was destroying my brain and my life. Would I have to live as the missing girl forever? No. That wouldn’t happen. I couldn’t watch my mom cry every day and then my dad being angry. Alia growing up and trying to remember who I was and crying about it. About me! I screamed and smashed my hands against the bubble. Harder and harder every time they hit. My arms eventually gave out and I sunk to the bottom of the bubble. I’m in here played over and over in my head and it made me more sad each time. I need you to hold all of the sadness, I cannot live with inside of me. Exactly how I felt.