Her Room
The blue dress, still lying on the bed, makes it seem like Jenny is still around. She could easily be in the shower, on the field, or at the movie theater, planning to put the dress away later in the evening. I trace my hands over the silk fabric, remembering how flawless my little sister looked that night, and a chill tickles my neck. I quickly take my hand away. Mom hasn't stepped a foot in this room since the "incident," and I know that that is the reason the room is in this state: it is exactly as Jenny left it. In a small fraction in the back of our minds, my family finds comfort in keeping the room the way it was left, as it makes us feel like she never disappeared.
I walk into her bathroom, with the dust beginning to line the shelves and her makeup still sprawled out across the counter, and I can't help but to wonder what happened to her. All that she left us was a note, and it was short one at that. "I'm leaving. I can't stay. Take care of Max for me. I'm sorry. -J" Jenny wasn't an unhappy girl; she had plenty of friends and she was actively involved with school. She had a wonderful boyfriend and was even offered a scholarship to her dream school due to her soccer talent. She and I were close. I would have known if she wasn't happy. At least, I thought I would have known.
I walk by the picture of her and Max that is hanging by the mirror; I know it all too well. It was one of the photos that we used when we put out a missing person flyer. It was a simple candid of a girl hugging her dog at the beach, with her long, blonde hair dancing in the wind behind her and her eyes bright, full with laughter. I refuse to look at it now. She was a beautiful person. Is. Who knows. I don't know where she is now. Tears begin to form in the corner of my eyes and my knees become weak. I shouldn't have come in here. Why did I think I could handle it?
I sit down in the her bathtub, remembering that this was where we had our last conversation. I was cross legged on the ground nearby as she took a bubble bath, only her head showing from behind the shower curtain. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, trying to understand what may have been truly going going through her head that night. Jenny didn't say a word to hint to the fact that she was planning on running away, nor did she act as if anything was bothering her. She didn't take a single item with her. At the time, I thought this was bizarre and a bit sketchy, but her best friend did the same thing. Jenny and Madira went missing on the same night. It was planned.
Downstairs, I hear Mom and James discussing what to make for dinner. My eyes widen: Mom would kill me if she knew I was in here. Quickly jumping up, my head scrapes the shelf that is hanging near the shower. I silently curse to myself as I begin to feel the blood trickle through my hair. Blinded by my throbbing headache, I hardly notice the little piece of paper that had fallen behind the shelf - the little folded note with my name on it.
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