Missing

A group of friends trying to find one of their own. A friend of there's goes missing, join them in the adventure of trying to find her before it becomes too late. Will they find their missing friend and what will they uncover along the way. Romance, Crime and a chill through there spines. (Don't judge by this, I'm really bad at them - sorry).

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2. Death

My mother always told me “Never let anyone make your decisions for you, you decide what path you go on, you decided whom you love and whom you don’t, you decide what you will do in life.”

My mother was my hero and when she…left, I was devastated; I was an eight year old girl for crying out loud! She left me, my brother and my father…he was affected the most. My brother locked himself in his room for three months and then he too left, he left me and my father on out own for five months and when he returned he knew that was a mistake, everything was so much worse.

My father turned to drinking to forget about her and then to drugs around two years after that. I turned rebellious, doing anything I wanted to, whether that was to do with inside or outside of school. It started off just making it hard on teachers as I would be turning up late to lessons, back chatting and just not doing any work in class. But as I got into my teenage years I would go to parties till god knows when and did as I pleased with my life.

My brother and I stayed by my father even when he told us he was never going to stop. To be honest over time he had actually gotten worse. My brother Seth tried to keep me on a straight road – bless him. He tried for a few months but when there was no change, he stopped. He didn’t see the point in trying if I wasn’t going to try. Which I totally don’t blame him for, I mean it is the truth.

My mother didn’t leave like I said…I mean she’s still gone but she didn’t actually leave, she didn’t have a choice. There’s a difference between what actually happened and what me and my family told the police…but the outcome was the same. One night when my brother and I were out for a meal, she was home alone as my dad was out working late again, he was trying really hard to get this promotion at work.

Anyway some Bastard broke into the house and killed her…strangulation the police said it was, yet they couldn’t find a hand print, he must have been wearing gloves or some shit they said. My father told the police he was the one who found her, he came home expecting to find her already in bed and asleep. He actually thought she was so he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get changed like everyone’s night time ritual and that’s when he saw it, the mark on her neck, the blood coming out of her nose and ears. She was lying in the bed, but she wasn’t sleeping, she was lying in the bed unmoving, but it was because she was dead…not because she was sleeping peacefully, but because she wasn’t upon this earth anymore.

That was the worst night of my life and it still haunts me now even when I’m 15. Nightmares are still brought to me in my dreams. They don’t come to me as much as they used to…about once a week I wake up screaming. But even that’s too much for me to deal with. I wake up in a cold sweat, breathing so heavy that it’s remarkable that the whole house doesn’t bloody shake, but I guess that’s never going to go away. 

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