Fourteen – Calvin

The next three days seem to slur into one, almost like I'm sleepwalking. They all follow the same routine: wake up, school, library, home and sleep. But each day is getting harder. I'm sleeping less and less, focusing seems impossible and I don't want to eat anything. Every day I spend not knowing where Oliver is slowly burns away my sanity. I feel utterly useless just sitting here, not being able to do anything, not knowing anything. I can't escape the pain of not knowing. Every day, gut-churning situations on what could've happened to him play in my mind forever.

It's not easy dodging my parents. Since I've been known to get myself in trouble, they haven't let me breathe. I'm surprised it's taken this long for them to get on my ass after disappearing almost every afternoon. Although last time, I wasn't in a good place, so it was easier for their judgment to take hold of their parenting. I was out almost every night at one point and would get three hours sleep on a good day, usually during school. My parents were worried to the point that they could barely get along with each other. That only made my habits worse but of course they couldn't see it. When they would argue over what's best for me, moving schools, banning certain things and so much more, it would give me the perfect excuse to get out and forget it all. But this time it's different, I've been happier so I guess they let it slide for longer. Or at least I'm supposed to be happier.

My parents were always a very distant couple. I mean it's obvious they love each other, most of the time at least. They are always talking about and taking each other into consideration. The only times they fight is when I'm involved. My father worked too much when I was younger so my mother had more time with me, and now they have completely different views as to how I should behave and what I should do. My father likes the strict route, but my mother knows that would never work with me.

What can I say, I'm a pretty stubborn kid.

That's all they argue about, which is why I desperately need Kayleigh to keep an ear out for me. I've tried my best but they live and work upstairs and I don't have super sonic hearing. There's meant to be two bedrooms upstairs and one downstairs, but the second bedroom was converted into a home office since most of their work is done outside of the workplace. So my downstairs bedroom is way too far away for any hopes of eaves dropping... unless they let something slip in the living room and it reverberates off the two-storey high sloped ceilings, but even then, dinner time isn't their ideal time to discuss my behaviours so I'm out of luck.

- - -

Five days. It's been five days since I've seen him, and that's the only thing I know.

I've been so sluggish that even my teachers have noticed. Their usually bright student now sits in the back of their class with dark circles under his eyes, resting his head on the desk. My English teacher had to wake me up at the end of class today. He gave me a long, serious talk about how I can talk to him about anything and how the school can organise for me to see someone to help. I just nodded along and didn't say much.

I know what would happen if I did ask for help. Class Laws and Regulations would have something for the both of us. Sometimes I wonder if I should do something, maybe call the police. I mean Oliver could be dead for all I know and all I did was sit here, worrying myself into a state of ruin. I couldn't live with myself if it just came down to me doing nothing. I couldn't live without him. I guess I never knew how much he helped me until he was gone. How much he saved me from myself.

My thoughts drone on as I absentmindedly drive down the street. I've already spent my time at the library, a whole three hours. Each time I walk out of the library, past the front desk, the look on Baylee's face gets more and more concerned. I don't know who she's worried about, but I hope it's Oliver. I mean, I wouldn't blame her if she's worried for me, I look horrible, but I'm not the one who's missing.

I pull into the driveway of my house and drag myself out of the car. I walk up to the front door and go to open it, but it is pulled open before me. A small part of me wants it to be someone who's come to answer my questions as to why Oliver is gone and reassure me that he's fine. Actually, who am I kidding, all of me wants that. But then Kayleigh steps out from behind the gigantic door and greets me with a smile. I let out a small sigh.

"Welcome home Calvin," she chirps.

I nod at her.

"Your parents have requested you see them in their office," she says, following me as I put my car keys in their respective place on the table in our entrance way.

"Thank you," I say and dismiss her.

My parents probably want to tell me the same thing that my English teacher said earlier, but I'm not willing to find out anytime soon. I make my way to the kitchen and rummage through the fridge. I'm not hungry but my body might appreciate the food. I pull out the leftovers from a sandwich I tried to eat last night and get myself a glass of water. Taking small bites from the sandwich, I scroll through my phone, hoping to find something to distract me from this depressing situation.

A voice booms from upstairs, interrupting me mid-bite. I take that as my signal to see my parents. I make my way upstairs and knock lightly on the door to the office, hoping no one will hear it and I can go on my way. But my wish is ignored and a muffled 'come in' invites me to enter. Once I'm inside, my mother ushers me into a seat and sits down in a chair across from me, next to my father.

She straightens her skirt then looks at me with a distant look in her eyes. "Calvin." She says my name almost like a plea.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" I ask, simply wanting to get this over and done with.

My mother looks at my dad, then back to me before she continues, "Calvin, what is it that you do when you go into the Middle in the afternoons?"

I unconsciously let time pass before I answer, looking anywhere but at my parents. "Nothing." It's way too hard to think of a good excuse right now.

Both of them look very unconvinced.

"Calvin," she tries again. I just look away. She continues trying as she leans towards me, her voice soft, "Come on. You can trust us; we're your parents and we love you no matter what."

"It's nothing," I repeat.

"Calvin this is not nothing." Her words are quick and tense as she gestures to my destroyed state. "What idiots do you think we are to think this is nothing? To not notice our son slowly declining to nothing?"

"It is nothing, okay? I just go to the Middle and wander around to take my mind off things. Nothing more, nothing less." I reply bitterly.

"How does that make you so tired? How does that make you lose your appetite? How does that make even your teachers worry about you so much that they contact us?" My Mother fights.

I fall silent.

"Answer me, Calvin!" She pleads. I can see the threat of tears glinting in her eyes. Sometimes it's hard to tell if they are angry tears or sad tears.

I don't bother answering her because I know I can't. If they knew about anything, I would immediately be rejected by them, and sure enough, the rest of society. If I know anything about my parents, they do not stand for disobedience against class, even if I was the one going against it. No one bothers to make a sound. I awkwardly shift my weight and stare down at my feet attempting to keep my composure under her worried eyes.

"Fine," she whispers in defeat.

Now my father, as bluntly as ever, decides to have his say, "We're taking the keys to your Mercedes."

My eyes widen with shock and I look up and stare at them, mouth agape.

No. They can't.

"You can't!" I burst out.

"We gave it to you and we can take it away. It was a gift you have nothing but abused so now you won't get it back until you tell us what's going on."

I sit there silently, trying to contain the many emotions that are swelling up inside of me. Trying to fight the stinging of my eyes. They can't do that, that small slither of hope that the library leaves me is all I have right now.

My father clears his throat and continues with a stern tone, "We've organised to have you driven and picked up from school by one of the house-aides. And other than being at school, you are not to leave this house. Understood?"

I take a deep breath in and nod sharply. Then I leave the office without a single word. I don't even look at them. I cover my face with my shirt as angry tears cascade down my cheeks. I stumble down the stairs and go straight for my keys, but they aren't where I left them. Kayleigh is facing away from me in the kitchen.

"Kayleigh," I strangle out.

She doesn't turn around. "I'm sorry, I didn't know until today."

No. Fuck.

"Do you have them?" I don't even sound like myself anymore, just a shadow.

She shakes her head and points upstairs.

Fuck.

I make it to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me.

This isn't happening, there's no way this is happening.

I fall onto my bed and bury my face in the sheets. Pulling at the loose fabric of my unmade bed. I sob, uncontrollably. My body shakes and heaves with my uneven breaths. The bed sheets are almost suffocating me but I don't care. My chest heaves and heaves, it feels like I'm killing myself. This is going to kill me. And I feel it, the last tiny bit of control that I felt like I had, slip away from me. Rendering me useless to the situation.

I may as well give in, right? What hope is there in this situation? I can't see him, I can't find him. Fuck, I can't do anything. My breaking point. I've tried to stay strong. I tried to wait for things to fix themselves. I just wish the situation was better.

…I wish I never left him.

Rolling onto my back, I knot my fingers in my hair and press my palms into my eyes. I have to bite down on my lip to stifle my continuous sobs. I try to think of something, anything to make me stop crying, to take away these horrible emotions that are strangling me. But nothing helps. I try desperately to calm myself down, I try to be strong again. Not even remembering all the good times with Oliver helps, it's all gone stale with regret.

I don't know how long I layed there. I don't know how long I cried for. Time seems to be falling apart along with everything else. I lay there on my back and stare up at the darkness. My eyes are dehydrated and irritated, I have a throbbing headache and my chest still shakes when I breathe, but I can control my emotions better now. I keep staring up into the darkness like it has answers for me. Like it'll tell me what I have to do but I know that I won't find an answer there.

Eventually, my eyelids start to get heavy. My body battles to keep itself awake. I need to find something. I'm not going to sleep with less hope than I had yesterday. But my silent prayers go unheard, and sleep swallows my mind.

- - -

When I wake up, it's pitch black. My eyes slowly adjust, and things start to come into focus. I'm lying in an awkward tangle of sheets and blankets, still in my clothes from school yesterday. I sit up and stretch out my back before searching with my hands across the sheets hoping to find my phone. I remember carelessly tossing it somewhere but I don't remember where. When I finally find it hidden under a mass of fabric, I turn it on and check the time. 2:56 AM.

My mind starts to buzz some instructions at me but I can't seem to make out what it's trying to say. I know, whatever it is, it will lead to answers. I tunnel my focus to decipher the noise. The words engulf me almost like a threat.

Get out. Find him or find someone who can.