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Missing

I opened my eyes to the night sky, the firm ground holding my weight. I stayed there for a few seconds, staring at the illuminating constellation above me, letting the faint sound of crickets wash over me. I slowly got to my feet, grass blades tickling my palms, and assessed my surroundings. I was in my front yard, facing my house. The cold wind nipped at my arms and I folded them as I walked towards my front door. My mom always forgot to lock it, so I didn’t hesitate to open it. Once I stepped in the house the smell of my favorite dish, homemade chili, wafted into my nostrils. The corner of my lips turned upwards and I closed and locked the front door.
As soon as I took in my surroundings, I knew something was off. The once vibrant living room harbored a gloomy aura. Cobwebs adorned the old crown molding, and despairing brown stems sat in the vase on the coffee table in place of daisies my mom replaced weekly. Under the coffee table I spotted an open box and from what I could see, it was filled with posters from my room and my soccer trophies. Confusion swept over me and I quickly got to my feet and I headed to the kitchen.
I spotted my mother, leaning on the stove where the chili was cooking, holding a paper. She looked weak and exhausted. She didn’t seem to notice as I walked up to her and peered over the paper. My eyes landed on my school picture and my breath caught in my throat when I saw what was written above it. ‘Missing.’
I opened my mouth and said, “Mom, it’s okay, I’m right here. What happened?” I was startled by my own voice but I paid more attention to her reaction. She didn’t move. “MOM!” Still nothing. 
I backed up, frantically searching for something, anything, to prove that I was real. I spun around and sprinted to the living room, where a big round mirror sat, planted on the wall above the fireplace. I stood at the entrance of my living room, my eyes glued to the mirror, where I only saw the reflection behind me.






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