Lost and Found, chapter 1
The room was quiet and empty, except for a girl. A gun sat next to her. Her mind was racing, engulfed in the silence. Her eyes never left the gun. Slowly, she lifted her trembling hand from her lap. The gun was cold to the touch, mettallic and heavy. She brought the gun to her sweaty temple. Her eyes were squeezed shut. She took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.
Click. Nothing. She opened her eyes and took a shuddery breath. It was empty.
"Stupid gun!" Her scream pierced the silence. She threw it at the wall, leaving a dent. Warm tears ran down her cheeks. She couldn't even kill herself. She stood up, kicked the wall, and left the room.
"Lena, what the hell was that?" a slurred voice yelled up the stairs. Lena stood in the hallway, wiping her tears away.
"Nothing, Mom. I just dropped a lamp," she called down. She went downstairs into the kitchen to find her mom surrounded by bottles of alcohol. She was already asleep on the table.
Lena sighed and put away the bottles. Gently, she pulled her frail mother off the table and onto the couch. She covered her with a soft, warm blanket.
"You are too good to me," her mother murmured. I wish I could say the same about you, Lena thought sadly.
She ran upstairs to get ready for school. She pulled off her tank top and put on a plain grey t-shirt. She rifled through her drawers and pulled out a pair of jeans and pulled them on. She looked in the mirror.
Her naturally black hair hung loose around her tan face. Some people said she was pretty. Beautiful even. It was her attitude that veered them away. She put on her sneakers, grabbed her bag, and left the house.
The morning was foggy and dim. Little droplets of dew kissed the grass. Winter was coming. Lena loved winter. She loved how she couldn't feel her fingers, her face, her pain. A memory flashed in her mind.
She was 8 years old. She was laying out in the pure white snow with her father. She remembered feeling the snow falling on her face, cold and wet. Her father was laughing with her. She could still hear his laugh clearly at that very moment. She sniffled, letting the tears fall as she walked.
"Are you okay?" The voice made her jump. Her foot slid on a patch of ice. She could feel herself fall and hit the sidewalk. She closed her eyes.
Footsteps ran toward her. Two hands gently lifted her head.
"Oh my god, are you alright?" She opened her eyes to find a face about 2 inches away from her face. She sat up.
"Yeah, I'm okay..." She said and quickly got up.
"Are you sure? That was a pretty nasty fall." He gave her weak smile. His brown hair hung over his blue eyes.
"Yes, I'm okay, you can leave me alone now." She walked away, leaving the guy gazing after her.
Click. Nothing. She opened her eyes and took a shuddery breath. It was empty.
"Stupid gun!" Her scream pierced the silence. She threw it at the wall, leaving a dent. Warm tears ran down her cheeks. She couldn't even kill herself. She stood up, kicked the wall, and left the room.
"Lena, what the hell was that?" a slurred voice yelled up the stairs. Lena stood in the hallway, wiping her tears away.
"Nothing, Mom. I just dropped a lamp," she called down. She went downstairs into the kitchen to find her mom surrounded by bottles of alcohol. She was already asleep on the table.
Lena sighed and put away the bottles. Gently, she pulled her frail mother off the table and onto the couch. She covered her with a soft, warm blanket.
"You are too good to me," her mother murmured. I wish I could say the same about you, Lena thought sadly.
She ran upstairs to get ready for school. She pulled off her tank top and put on a plain grey t-shirt. She rifled through her drawers and pulled out a pair of jeans and pulled them on. She looked in the mirror.
Her naturally black hair hung loose around her tan face. Some people said she was pretty. Beautiful even. It was her attitude that veered them away. She put on her sneakers, grabbed her bag, and left the house.
The morning was foggy and dim. Little droplets of dew kissed the grass. Winter was coming. Lena loved winter. She loved how she couldn't feel her fingers, her face, her pain. A memory flashed in her mind.
She was 8 years old. She was laying out in the pure white snow with her father. She remembered feeling the snow falling on her face, cold and wet. Her father was laughing with her. She could still hear his laugh clearly at that very moment. She sniffled, letting the tears fall as she walked.
"Are you okay?" The voice made her jump. Her foot slid on a patch of ice. She could feel herself fall and hit the sidewalk. She closed her eyes.
Footsteps ran toward her. Two hands gently lifted her head.
"Oh my god, are you alright?" She opened her eyes to find a face about 2 inches away from her face. She sat up.
"Yeah, I'm okay..." She said and quickly got up.
"Are you sure? That was a pretty nasty fall." He gave her weak smile. His brown hair hung over his blue eyes.
"Yes, I'm okay, you can leave me alone now." She walked away, leaving the guy gazing after her.
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