Covered with Plaster: Prologue

Open up, this is the police!

“You are under arrest on suspicion of murder. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do or say may be given in evidence…” My dad was leaning over the police car that was in my family’s driveway. His hands were in cuffs and the officer was escorting him into the car. Somehow I couldn’t make out what was going on, but I knew it was bad.

While that was going on, I was situated comfortably on the couch in perfect view of the outside. Even though I was covered in a cozy outfit, I still felt a chill in my spine. I was wearing my favorite pink elephant pajamas that I got from my mother from my sixth birthday. In fact, my sixth birthday was only seven months ago. Even though it was a while back, I still remember that day when my joyful parents were eating cake and talking about getting a dog. We were all a perfect, happy family back then. But a lot has changed. My mom stopped coming home a month ago for no reason and my dad had gone crazy.

“She left because she doesn’t want you anymore,” my dad would say to me every day. At first, I wouldn’t listen to him as I thought he was just misunderstanding things. But as every single day passed, I realized he might be true. My mom had perfect luscious blonde hair and big, gorgeous blue eyes, while I got shaggy dirty blonde hair and green, mushy colored eyes. I used to think she left me because I was such an ugly kid.

But as days unfolded into months, I found out my mother never really abandoned me. She was missing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s