Suddenly, I’m standing in the middle of a winter festival. There are lights and snow and love and happiness, and I’m surrounded by friends and family. I run around in the snow, following the floating lights that guide me closer and closer to the giant Christmas tree. The snow is descending horizontally and there are no gifts under the tree or in the stockings, just chocolate-covered strawberries, and normal strawberries, and bowls to put the strawberries in. There’s a fireplace in my bedroom and a math textbook burns inside, keeping the warm-colored light glowing.
I sit on my bed and cry into my phone, although the person I’m talking to is sitting next to me and is cuddled in the blanket with me, and the pillows are just green dinosaur stuffed animals. It begins to rain, but the water isn’t made up of raindrops: instead, salty dark tears. These tears turn six years old today, and we both remember it. Me and the little light on the other side of the phone. I guess this person and the one in my bed with me are two different people after all, but I love them both the same.
It’s a different kind of love, but they both comfort me. I don’t even remember what exactly is wrong. I guess it’s just all the sudden change. There’s a knock on my ceiling and then younger tears rise from my floor. The textbook has jumped out of the fireplace and is yelling at me. I yell back. The room vibrates, my bed shakes, and suddenly I’m alone, the lights have gone out, and every few seconds I vibrate again. And then I’m awake.
It takes me a few seconds to truly wake up, and I really like the weird feeling that dream gave me, so I recite it in my head and write it down in my notes app. It sort of feels more like a memory than a dream, but I’m too tired to figure out exactly when this metaphorically happened, so I check my phone for the time instead. It’s just minutes until three AM, and I know I’ll have trouble waking up in the morning if I don’t go back to sleep like, right now, but something keeps me up. Where am I? I squint my eyes and try to adjust to the dark while I sit up, but I’m just met with a seemingly endless black abyss, so I turn on my phone’s flashlight and explore from the floor.
I blink several times before remembering I’m in the guest room. The yellow lamp on the nightstand has been knocked over, and the soft blankets I’ve been using as a bed and to cover me have been kicked off, so my arms are freezing. The purple curtains that usually cover the large window in front of me are open, allowing my flash to reflect off of the midnight colors and disturb my eyes. I crawl over to the lamp, satisfied to see that even though it’s on the floor, it’s still plugged in and the lightbulb is undisturbed, so I turn it off to exchange my flashlight. Malcolm sleeps peacefully on the floor about a foot away from me, facing away so I can’t see his face, but the blankets are still on him, so I assume he’s not as cold as I am.
I sit on my knees for a bit, trying to figure out why I woke up. What disturbed me? I pick up my phone again to check for something—I don’t really know what. I mean, I could have sworn I could feel vibrating… I assumed it was a call, but I don’t have any new voicemail or notifications like that. There is one from Life 360, however, and that app is one you don’t usually get notifications from unless someone is actively awake or doing something, so I open the app to check.
Sophie has left home.
I was notified almost half an hour ago. The alert I have just gotten tells me her phone is on two percent. I’m so tired that I can barely make out the tiny words, but once I do, I drop my phone, horrified. I shoot up and turn around to face the guest bed where Sophie was just sleeping, or, I thought she was, but she’s not there. I don’t know what I am expecting at this point, but now I’m panicking.
I run out of the room, my phone’s flashlight guiding me once again, and bang on the bathroom door while calling her name, but I’m met with no response. I don’t have any reason to believe she’s in there, but I have to know for sure before I completely freak myself out. I open the door, and as I should have been suspecting, I’m met with nothing. I can feel my breaths getting shorter, and my heart beating faster. I try to call her but am met with a "not available" screen right away, which tells me that her phone has most likely died. Mine is about to too, so using my last percentage I text my mom, Sophie is missing, I don’t know what to do, I’m scared. Do you know where she is? And just a lot of questions that would have been helpful to get her input on if my phone weren’t to die a few seconds later. I don’t want to freak out our parents if she’s safe, but I don’t know if she is, or why she’s gone, or where she is, and I need help.
It's been a few hours since my mom and stepdad left for my mom's promotion party, a small celebration the two of them as well as a few of their coworkers are getting together for. Much to my younger sister, Sofia's disliking, they left me and my stepbrother, Malcolm in charge. Technically, Malcolm is the oldest, but only by two days so nobody counts him as "the older one" except for himself. That reminds me, he’s in the guest bedroom, probably still asleep.
The three of us always sleep in the guest bedroom when our parents are away. We always have since Sophie begged us the first night we were left alone, back when I was in sixth or seventh grade—now it’s just tradition. I sprint back into the room because I don’t know what else to do.
“Mal, please wake up, please,” I cry, tearfully, my voice soft and quivering as my brain continues to scatter because my little sister is missing. “Malcolm, wake up, please!”
“W-what? Eliana? What the heck is wrong?” he asks sleepily, instantly noticing my unwell state. I try to explain, but I’m crying so hard at this point it feels impossible. “Eliana, what? Please, you’re scaring me, is everyone okay?” he asks frantically, now getting himself worried.
“S-Sophie is missing,” I wail, but I can’t elaborate because I’m back to uncontrollable crying. I don’t know why I’m so emotional, even if as far as I know ,the app is glitching, but it’s late, I’m tired, and I’ve already freaked myself out.
“What do you mean she’s missing? How long has it been?” he continues, grabbing onto my shoulders. “Eliana, speak!”
“I-I don’t know, she’s not in her bed or this house and my app says she left and that her phone is about to die but I tried calling it and I think it’s already dead and I don’t know if she’s okay of has been taken, or, or-”
“Hey, stop, relax, we’re going to find her. Just put your shoes on and we can track her using my phone. Life 360 should still be able to find her last known location,” he announces, and he doesn’t have to tell me twice.
I’m the first one out of the house after sliding on my Crocs. My hair has been messily braided, my shorts are too short to go out in, and my tank top does not match my very visible bra straps, but I couldn’t care less right now.
Malcolm hurries into his silver Tesla a moment later, also not looking too hot. He’s got green and black pj pants on, a black hoodie, white socks, and brown slippers, and his messy, frizzy hair is hidden by his hood. It’s a chilly night for September, which makes the vibe so much more eerie and I hate it. I turn on Malcolm’s phone and open the tracking app as quickly as my hands can go, but I can’t shut up about how freaking worried I am.
“Oh my God, it says she’s in a park over twenty minutes away, why would she be in a park? Is she selling or buying drugs, or - or … I dunno, shoot, this is so messed up, how could I let this happen? I told Mom I would take care of her and she could be dead by now-”
“Stop, do not say that, she’s not dead, and you’re the reason she’s about to come home safe,” he reminds me, but his semi-helpful smile transforms into a worried look within moments. “I - I promised to watch over her, too, and the notifications didn’t even wake me up,” he admits guilt fully, sounding more panicked with each word.
I want to be able to help him too, but I’m just too upset right now. I mean, I’ve been panicking from the moment I realized she was gone. How is it he’s able to stay so calm? Hearing him suddenly switch up like this…it’s too much for me. Something clicks in the back of my mind, and it feels like he doesn’t care at all, because how could he? She’s my sister, and I’m the one “playing parent.” There’s no way he’s being genuine, right? No, definitely not.
“Who cares? It’s not like she’s your sister,” I shout, although I didn’t mean to say it out loud. He turns to face me better, looking confused.
“Are you serious? I’ve grown up with you two, of course, it is,” he protests, moving his eyes back onto the road.
“Nuh-uh! She is my sister, not yours, so you need to shut up and just get me to that stupid park,” I demand, and it obviously kind of hurts his feelings, but I’m too stressed to care at the moment. I look away and cross my arms stubbornly.
“Fine,” he murmurs, clenching the steering wheel harder as he speeds up. “It’s not like we live in the same house or our parents are married, or I’ve known her for over half of her life, just like you, is it?” he asks, his patience slipping.
I don’t answer because I don’t think he expects me to and instead turn away, annoyed. But my face softens as my eyes drift back onto his phone. I don’t like it when we fight, especially at times like this when we’re both scared, but it’s just hard sometimes, and it’s taking everything in me not to burst back into tears. Maybe I don’t mean what I said… I really can’t figure out how to feel right now.
As the silence consumes us, I start to imagine what my life might look like without Sophie in it. She drives me insane, but I’ve almost always been able to look past that and protect her from the world when she has needed it most. She’s like, the funniest person I know and can be really kind when she allows herself to be.
There have definitely been times where she unknowingly (or not) made me feel bad about myself, or just blatantly annoyed me for no apparent reason, but her leaving my life forever would never be the solution I'd ask for. Now we’re pushing four AM and she’s disappeared into some random park none of us have ever been to, and I don’t even know if she’s with somebody, or if alone, or which one is worse.
Twenty minutes legitimately feels like twenty hours, and I never know if I should call my mom or Rob or not, so I wait. As soon as we pull up to where her location was last detected, I snap off my seatbelt and follow Malcolm out of the car. We’ve parked right outside of a boba shop that has its hours posted on the door. It’s been closed since nine, but I peer inside just in case. I’m destroyed to find no sign of Sophie.
While backing away, I hit into somebody and scream. I hate this atmosphere so much, and it doesn’t help that I’ve never been here, or close to here. I frantically turn around and just find Malcolm ,who looks just as startled as I do.
My face flushes with embarrassment even though I know we have much bigger problems, and I start to shake uncontrollably while I hold myself in my own arms. There’s only one streetlight around, and it’s flickering like crazy. I hate it and I hate it here and I wish I was back home in the guest room still asleep and unaware Sophie is gone. It’s probably my most selfish thought ever, but I want it so badly.
“You need to calm down,” Malcolm instructs strictly, noticing my obvious discomfort.
“Wow, thank you so much for the advice, that’s the most helpful thing I’ve ever heard!” I scream, practically frozen from the cool autumn air.
“I’m serious, you have to breathe or we’re never gonna find her,” he tries to argue, but I just can’t right now.
“Mal, I need you to stop, like seriously, this isn’t helping,” I demand, my voice completely broken at this point.
“I just… I need you to calm down a little Eliana, please. I can’t help you find your sister if you’re gonna be hysterical.”
“Just shut up, Malcolm! You think you’re playing the hero right now but you aren’t, I can’t just breathe and magically be better!”
“I’m not saying that! It’s just that I’m just as scared as you are and you aren’t making this any easier. I know it’s hard but I’m trying to help all of us, now I’m begging you, breathe,” he basically screams. He looks almost as stressed as I do, and I hate to be the one to lose here, but I’m exhausted, so I step back over to the boba shop, lean my back on the wall, and slide onto the ground. The concrete ground is somehow colder than the night itself, and my breathing is anything but stable. I wrap my arms around my knees and try my hardest to take long deep breaths, but unwelcome, short sniffs interrupt almost every time.
A moment later, Malcolm sits down next to me and in a similar position. He lays one arm around my shoulder and tries to calm himself down too, but I got him pretty stressed. He’s also crying, but not hardcore crying like me, and I promise I’m not trying to make it into a contest, I just can’t seem to calm myself down like he can.
However, as he takes nice, long, deep breaths, I eventually start to copy, and with time, I’m lightheaded, but a lot calmer. Those stupid mini-sniffs are still sneaking their way in, but at least I can control myself now. We’re both quiet for a little while.
“I’m sorry,” I begin while whipping my nose on my arm. “I know she’s your sister too, and I know you’re just as scared. I just can’t control myself when I get this upset I guess,” I admit, and I don’t know if that’s the truth or the reason behind these huge emotions, but that’s what I’m able to conclude. He doesn’t respond for a while and eventually just nods. “Should we call our parents? Or the police?”
He opens his mouth to answer when suddenly there’s laughing in the distance. We look at each other, confused until it happens again. It’s clearly behind the boba shop somewhere, deep in the park but not yet in the woods, which are a lot farther down. We pop up at the same time and go running through an alleyway that brings us to a hill in a park, the same park where Sophie should be. When squinting, I can make out a group of middle school kids at the bottom of the grassy hill in front of us. It’s plenty dark down there, but they're near another streetlight and are sitting on a wide blanket under a large tree.
I run down the hill as fast yet as carefully as possible, and although I can’t yet be sure if my sister is even there or not, I run there as if she is. Malcolm starts behind me but has been playing both soccer and football for years, so it’s no surprise he catches up and ends up in front of me within a few seconds. By the time we reach the kids, we’re both a little out of breath, from crying, panicking, and running as fast as possible. I study the group who look at me and my stepbrother like we’re crazy, maybe because we’re wearing the worst possible outfits. Maybe because we’re two eighteen-year-olds who just ran up to them in the middle of the night. There’s about ten of them—no, eight—mostly girls, but a few boys. Some of them have boba, none are wearing pjs, and most were just talking to one another a second ago. I search their faces, my hope slipping away with every non-Sophie I see until…
“Sophie!” I yell, my voice filled with nothing but relief as I grab onto her and squeeze her as hard as I can. She looks a little mortified to see me here, and I don’t care one bit. I’m just so grateful to see her alive and safe with people she knows and trusts. I shut my eyes and cry into her dark hoodie for a few seconds until I look back up and see Mal in front of us. He looks like he wants to join in, but also sort of out of place. I figure that’s my fault, but I’ve already apologized and don't know what else I can do.
I finally pull away.
“You are in so much trouble,” I tell her with absolutely zero sympathy, my fingers deeply digging into her arms before she wiggles out of my grasp.
“Eliana, stop,” she says, obviously embarrassed as she glances over at the group of kids her age. Some of them have started whispering to each other but none of them directly question me yet.
“We’re going home,” I tell her as I interlock our fingers and begin to drag her back up the hill, but suddenly stop and turn around. “All of you go home now or I’m calling the police,” I tell them in the same tone.
With every second Sophie looks more and more horrified by my actions. Her cheeks are a bright red and her eyes stay right on the moist grass. While it takes a little while for them all to listen, eventually the group splits up one by one, and the kids slowly walk back up the hill, making little remarks and comments about me, and I’ve never felt so unaffected by someone else bad-talking me ever before.
Malcolm, Sophie, and I are the last to trudge back up the hill and into the car. I blast the heat so it blows on my face and heats my seat immediately because I can feel the hyperthermia getting closer by the minute. I also finally plug my phone in because I forgot that was an option on the way here. We’re silent as we all click on our seatbelts and Mal starts the car, but once we're on the road, headed to our house, Sophie finally speaks up again.
“I can not believe you just did that to me, that was the most embarrassing thing ever,” she claims, her arms crossed, eyes still down.
“Oh, I know you’re not starting that with me. You snuck out, didn’t tell anyone where you were going, or who you were going with, or when you’d be back. There was zero communication at all, and that is not okay,” I say while turning back to face her.
“You’re not my mom!” she yells.
“No, but she’ll be just as upset once she finds out,” I remind her.
“Ugh, you’re literally the worst!”
“Excuse me?”
“I said you’re the worst. I actually hate you,” she declares, and although I refuse to show it, that statement hurts me in so many ways at once. I mean, I just had a mental breakdown about her wellbeing and safety because of how much I love and care about her and this is what I get in return.
Luckily Malcolm chimes in before I can slap that ungrateful little brat across the face. “Sophie, stop. You can be mad at Eliana if you want, but she just put herself through hell to get you back. You’re the one who snuck out, so whether you like it or not, she’s allowed to be mad too,” he explains, and I feel like he wishes we could go back to when we first found her so he can express how happy he is that she’s safe, but we’re past that and everything is hurtful and awkward now.
“Fine, she could have taken me, but sending the whole group home? Seriously? They’re gonna frickin’ hate me and never invite me to do anything ever again!” she complains while squeezing her arms tighter around her body.
“For all we knew you had gotten kidnapped! Eliana thought you had been killed, your phone was dead and you were in such an unfamiliar area,” Mal starts to list, and listening to his voice break time and time again makes me want to burst back into tears. “The point is we were really scared about you Soph, I mean, we almost called the cops and reported you as missing. This whole thing has been really scary so you do not have the right to complain right now.”
Sophie finally shuts up after that. She still looks extremely angry, but she just stares out the window quietly, so nobody says anything more for a long while. During this time I take a moment to wonder what I’m doing wrong. I only wanted to get her back - I have no clue how to play “parent” or what to do next.
I’m still freezing in the heated car, yet I think I somehow have more clothes on than Sophie does. I don’t understand how she didn’t freeze. I look back and examine her outfit again, pleased to see it’s not as skimpy as I remember, but still not completely satisfied. She has a very dark navy blue hoodie on, but the tiniest short shorts you’ve ever seen. It literally makes me cringe, so I break the semi-peaceful silence.
“What were you guys even doing out there?” I ask, but I’m met with silence. Not even a look in my direction. “Answer me.” Sofia sighs before replying in a low tone, "We were just hanging out ‘cause it’s cool and way more fun when we’re not supposed to.” I sigh, clearly annoyed, so she goes on. “You’ve made it pretty clear how mad you are at me, but just imagine the nice, popular kids from your school finally asked you and your friends to sneak off with them, I wasn’t about to turn that down.”
“I get that,” I start. “I promise I do, but just because I would have done it too doesn’t make it right,” I argue.
“I didn’t say it did. I’m saying it makes it understandable.”
“Why do you have to fight me on this?”
“You asked me a question-”
“Guys,” Malcolm interrupts, turning down the heat so we can hear him better. “I think we’re all pretty stressed and tired. Nobody is gonna win right now so I think we should all shut up, okay?” Neither I nor Sophie responds, so we’re back to sitting in silence for a little while longer until he turns into a small Dunkin’ drive-through.
After a large cup of coffee for all of us (we’re all drained, tired, and exhausted at this point and need it badly), I call my mom back and finally tell her that Sophie is safe and that we’re coming home with her. I feel sorry that her promotion party had to be cut short, and sorry that I couldn’t find Sophie sooner. And as odd as it might be, this whole situation still somehow feels like my fault, because I’m the one who got her upset in the first place and took over thirty minutes to realize she was missing.
As soon as we’re parked in front of the house again, safe and at home, I lean back and know that if I close my eyes I won’t open them for another few hours. After examining the heaviness under both my siblings’ eyes, I figure it’s the same for them, too. The sky is an overwhelmingly pretty salmon color right now and changes every few minutes as the sun continues to rise.
My mom is already home, her new-ish, red Mercedes-Benz is parked in the driveway. She’s the first one out of the car, with Rob following close behind. As soon as the three of us are out of Malcolm’s car, she is somehow able to wrap her arms around all of us at once. I think we all need it.
Once she pulls away, she kisses all of our cheeks, bends to Sophie’s height level, and wraps her into her own separate hug. Rob gives Malcolm and me a less tight hug too while thanking us for being “responsible older siblings” and whatever, then gives Sophie her own hug. She’s never thought of him as much of a dad but definitely loves him like an uncle or something. I can tell she hates this much extra attention, and we’re all sort of acting like she really had just been kidnapped and not the reality that she just snuck off.
“You are in so much trouble,” my mom whispers through post-worried tears. “I’m talking grounded, phone taken away, no going out for at least the rest of September, but…” she pauses and hugs her again, a little less tight this time. “...most importantly we’re just happy you’re safe.” And the more I think about it, the more I realize that’s the best way to parent.