'To notice my absence, is the greatest honour; yet, it is bittersweet as I am not there to soothe you, the pain of my absence.'
'Where is he?'
The desperation clawed up my throat, like bile – something putrid, strong, and gross, and it left me reeling. I couldn't seem to get my thoughts straight either. The first few hours were rough, I couldn't seem to get my dad to calm down.
He didn't know of the argument we had a few days prior – nor did I feel inclined to inform him about what happened; but there also wasn't any way I could hide this from dad. His reaction was unsurprising when I told him. I had to call the uni and let them know too, the police didn't seem to be much help, but now I see his face all across town.
The guilt was back, intensifying as time ticked on…
The pressure behind my eyes grew, the dryness intensified, and my legs burned as I walked more and more, trying to remember the areas Leo frequented – where are you?
Where are you, Leo?
Please… Leo…
Leo… please, please, please, please…. I am so sorry, please…
Come back….
Please… I'm begging you…
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Hours passed.
I had started early during the day, and worked with a few volunteers, and we continued looking and looking, yet it seemed with every hour passing the more they were slowing down.
I hated it, I hated it so much – why were they giving up? It hasn't even been a day.
I look around once more, trying to catch the mop of [Hair Colour] that i've grown up with––i choke slightly when I rush towards who I thought was Leo; the hope in my chest burned until the guy turned around, started to see me.
I'd like to think anyone would be surprised, a dishevelled man, grabbing your shoulder, panting, and holding up a picture of their missing brother.
My heart dropped once more into my stomach as the man apologised and went about his way, and as I watched him walking away. I felt sick, and the guilt was back again. It felt like a shit run of luck, fortune seemed hellbent on tormenting me.
A warm hand landed on my shoulder, and the policeman who was helping me, spoke to me gently, gruffly, and the familiar burning of my eyes was back again as I half-listened.
"You should head back home. Don't worry, we will find him––"
"I know what happens after the first 24 hours," I murmured, bitter, stubborn, and the words were clogged in my mouth like cotton.
The policeman's lips set into a grim line, and I find myself looking away, continuing, "It becomes retrieval."
The policeman, Officer Lopez, spoke, his grip firm on my shoulder, and I suddenly found the pavement intriguing, the different stones and the unevenness of the ground, "Yes, but I am sure we will find him, or something of him. He can't have gotten far."
"Right," my voice was hoarse, and sounded foreign to my own ears, where was my usual sternness––why do I sound so hopeless already?
The squeeze on my shoulder did nothing to assuage my fears, and all I felt was cold as I walked back home, and the streets were alive without me. Seemed that life continue to pass on by, and my chest was heavy––periodically, there was an ache.
An ache. Heavy, painful, a twinge of something so unfamiliar to what I had ever felt at any point in my life, it was different compared to the first accident; different to even when mum passed away.
A grimace settles on my face at that thought, and I wonder to myself what mum would have thought about these series of events––she must be feeling pretty hopeless. Her beloved family, falling apart without her. Now her youngest is missing.
My brother, missing.
God knows what dad is up to during the day––I know he is crying, he hides it, but I know he does. The redness of his eyes, and the thickness in his voice gives him away.
I look up, and I'm in front of my door. Mechanically, I grab my keys from my pocket, unlocking the door with a click––the house feels stale, there's the feeling of something missing, just like when mum passed.
The door closes softly, a click, I turn and lock it, before testing the handle once more, jerking it, and as it doesn't budge, I find myself yanking on it. The frustration mounting in my chest, and the pull and kick at the door, for a few moments before resting my head on the wood of the door.
The cool surface barely soothes me.
"Declan…? Are you alright?"
I close my eyes and take a breath, turning around, I see Olena. I glance away once more, it seems I can't really meet anyone's gaze anymore, and my voice comes out in a weak whisper, "Yeah, I'm fine."
I wince at my own tone, it was weak, worn, and it hasn't even been a day.
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Olena watches Declan go, and with a heavy heart she goes back to her own duties as well, before finishing up and as she was about to knock on the patriarch's door she stopped, and pressed an ear to the door of his office.
Soft cries, and Olean's heart twinged in sympathy.
'What a disaster,' she thought to herself as she just let herself out, walking to her car, as she thought about Leo, who had gone missing. With seemingly no signs of struggle, and it left much to be speculated about.
Glancing around, she then got into her car, and paused for a moment––also, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.
She sighed once more before starting up her car. Pulling out of the driveway, she turned on the radio, letting it run quietly in the background, tuning out her thoughts. Letting her thoughts slip away, opting to focus on the drive back. Feeling like an eternity and no time at all had passed as she parked in front of her house.
The lights were on, Henry was still awake.