My name is Lily Victoria Skye and I am 26 years old. I have long, blonde hair and big, brown eyes. I lived in a small, white house right outside of town, with a patch of lilies right behind it. I grew up here. I have never moved.
Jackson lived right down the road, where an old couple now lives. He was my childhood friend. He was always there.
But now, with the craziest and scariest news I've ever received, he's gone, with nothing but a note left behind.
I had gone away to visit my family a few hours away for two days. Jackson was sick and insisted that he stayed behind to prevent my parents from getting sick. When I came back two days later, all his stuff was gone and the only things I had was a note and our photo album, with one photo missing.
I called him so many times, but they all said that the phone was disconnected. I asked everyone to see if they knew, but they all knew nothing.
That was two months ago and I was alone.
I wasn't showing yet, but I could tell that it was there. I was showing symptoms, like constantly barfing and enhanced senses. I had so many sudden cravings. But, I was facing them alone.
I still went to college for my Master's in teaching. I continued on with my life. But, I could tell that a piece was missing. And that piece was Jackson Heights.
Maybe he was dead. Maybe he fled the country. Maybe he just hated me and couldn't bear to say it to my face. Maybe he was forced to leave. Maybe he just left.
I try to forget about it and move on. These things happen. But what really bothers me is he never talked about divorce. Technically, we're still married.
I spend my days teaching third grade, writing little stories here and there, cleaning the house over and over, and walking down the streets of town.
I wonder what Jackson is doing right now. Is he working? Is he falling in love? Is he laughing? Or is he looking at that picture he took from the photo album and crying over it, like I am right now?