TW: angst, mentions of self-harm
I made my way to the school bathroom and spent the rest of the day there. Like seriously, I sat there for the rest of the day, reading stuff on my phone. I heard the last bell finally ring and I crept outside. I made sure no one saw me and decided to walk home. I made my way home and tried to avoid contact with anyone else. After about 20 minutes, I finally made it home. “Monique? I was just coming to get you,” my mom said. “Sorry. I just wanted to walk,” I said.
“No, it’s okay. I have to go out anyways. I’m going to the police station,” she said. “Oh,” I said, looking down. “Yes. There’s food in the fridge if you want to eat. I’ll be back soon,” she said as she kissed my forehead and left. I sighed and made my way back to my room. I checked on Amira to see that she was still knocked out in the same exact. I know she did not sleep all day... I shook my head and went to my room. I hung my bag behind my door and threw myself on the bed. I felt lazy to get up so eventually, I just ended up knocking out right there.
I woke up to a dark room. I looked around and realized someone had turn off my light again. I got up and felt around the room to make sure I wouldn’t bump into anything. I felt the doorknob so I twisted it and made my way downstairs. I heard sobbing and I saw my mom in my dad’s arms crying and Amira was in her own. They were all looking at the TV and what I saw, made my heart drop. 8 year old, African- American Ilyasa Davis has now been confirmed missing. Nobody has seen the boy in the last 48 hours....” the rest trailed off as I dropped to the floor and cried. Someone lifted me up and wrapped their arms around me. “I’m sorry,” Amira said. We both dropped to the floor and cried in each other’s arms.
6 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ
It has now been almost 2 months since Ilyasa has been missing and everyone has lost any hope of him being alive. Not me though. The least I could do is have hope. But as the days passed, that hope would slowly start to fade. Amira had lost all hope and so had my dad. Actually, he never even had hope in the first place. I couldn’t help but wonder if he even cared. My mom on the other hand, still believed he was out there. Every day, she would wait at the door for him, but he never came.
I was not doing good at all. My whole mental seemed to crash after that day. I stopped going to school, I stopped talking to everyone, and I picked up all these weird obsessions. Like I started doing things I usually wouldn’t do and I just don’t feel like myself. I’ve been super moody and down lately and nothing makes me happy anymore. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same unless I get my brother back.
But if you thought I was bad, just imagine how Amira is. She hasn’t left her room since that day and when she does, she doesn’t speak to anyone. I hear her crying sometimes because the walls are pretty thin. And it deeply hurts me seeing her in this state of mind. I’ve seen her in a depressed state before but it was never like this. Ilyasa’s disappearance took a deeper toll on her than it did me because she’s closer to him than I am.
My mom was a completely different person though. She’s always been someone that’s good at hiding their emotions so I never saw her cry, or even frown. I know she was probably trying to stay strong, for us and for herself, but I know deep down she’s hurting. I don’t know what it’s like for your child to be missing. But what I do know is, it can’t be anything that feels good.
My dd was just never around. Like I rarely ever saw him in the house anymore. The only times I would see him is when he would come home super late at night when everyone else was asleep. Now I know what you’re thinking. And I’ve obviously been thinking it too. And honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. But I’m not one to jump to conclusions so I don’t even know what to think anymore.
Lately, to keep me busy, I’ve literally been listening to music a million times more than I usually do. It’s been my coping method and my escape from reality. If I’m not listening to music, I’m either sleeping or releasing stress. By releasing stress, I don’t mean getting off to myself. Well, that too but I mean cutting. I stopped for a while because my mental got better but recently, I can’t control it. I even have the same blade from years ago.
I don’t know why I began doing it in the first place. It just helps. Obviously, it’s not actually good for me but honestly don’t care. I’m just tired of living in general. But I have to keep trying. I came this far so I can’t give up now.
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