The Lost Life of Casandra

Run. That was my first instinct. Run as far away and as fast as you can. The house was cold. No one was there. I took my sister, my little brother, and a bag filled with things we needed and ran out the door.  I sprinted so fast, until stopping felt like defeat. Like I let the house win. The ever scary house. Forever haunting. It seemed like I ran for hours. I stopped in the middle of nowhere to feed my little brother. A truck came up to us. Then stopped. Asked if we needed help. I tried to say no. I tried to refuse. But I knew if I didn’t, the house would follow. My parents would find me. They would take me back. Oh how I hated that house. How the stairs creaked in the middle of the night. How every step felt like stepping on knives. I can’t handle it. I accepted the ride. My little brother laid there, sleeping, and my little sister was mesmerized by a bottle of water. I couldn’t run anymore. We sat in the truck. My phone was buzzing and lighting up every second with notifications from my parents. I didn’t look. Didn’t even try. My phone buzzed again. But it was a phone call. My favorite song. My favorite person. My best friend Casandra.

“Hello?” 

 “Cassandra what happened?” 

 “ I need your help. Where are you?”  

“ I ran away. I took Lily and Luke then ran. Why what happened?”  

Beep Beep Beep . The line went cold. My breathing echoes as I wonder what happened. I called once. Voicemail. Called a second time. Voicemail. Called a third time. Person unavailable. What happened to my best friend? The truck came to a stop. It was a rural area with no one there. “I hope you don't have anywhere to be.”    The truck remained still for multiple minutes and the driver tried to get out and open the passenger side door. I jumped out, took my little brother and sister, and ran. It is such an understatement to compare me to a race car. I ran so fast that my legs bled and started to shake. I collapsed in a field of flowers, and couldn’t help but hope that my best friend was ok. A tear rolled down my face. Dreaming, hoping, praying that she was ok. I stared at the moon as it shone on my face. The navy blue sky reflected back at me.  Two kids in my arms. One crying. One sleeping. And me wondering how I got here.

“The person's voicemail box is full. Please call again later” No, no, no, NO.  My favorite person, GONE. Gone from my life. Possibly gone forever. I could never see her again. Tears welled up in my eyes as I wondered once again what I did to deserve this. Why was I being treated like this? Why not anyone else? Why me? Once again, staring at the glistening stars, I closed my eyes and tears soon covered my face. While refreshing, it's sad.  My little brother cries in my arms. As I shush him I still cry. A car passes by and I’m hoping and praying that it's someone to pick me up, and take me to her house. They do stop. They ask me questions. I hope they aren’t trying to kidnap me like the truck guy. I still went in the car. I went up to her house. Door unlocked. I walk in the familiar layout of her house, up to her room. Window open, bed unmade. I called her one more time. “This phone number is out of service”    I still see her in the stars. So close yet so distant.