Short Story: Where to Find You

I once had a place, a place to call home. Now I walk these streets with no place to go. You see, I was never rich. I laid somewhere in the middle of money and no money, yet I was still happy. When things went wrong, music would be my escape. We didn't have a lot of money but my mother knew how much music meant to me. She paid for classes and hired a private tutor who was actually our neighbor. She also purchased many books second hand to help me learn.

Not so long after, everything changed. My mother was depressed, she had lost her job and her mind because she couldn't take care of us the way she had wanted to. She would always hug me and say sorry, and I would feel horrible seeing her in that state. It wasn't her fault and the medication they gave my mother only made it worse. She thought it was working, but it only made her addicted. Everything about her was stripped away from her. Once she was lost, it was only me and my brother. We lived in a house that was on the verge of being taken away from us. So, he started working to keep the house running. He always told me that mother would come home soon, so don’t worry.  It made me feel a lot better. So I waited, we waited. Every day our eyes would stare at the door as we waited, but there was no sign of her. 

The food we ate only got more expensive. My brother couldn't stay home and look after me while working at the small job he got. So he also left, sending money through the mail so I could eat well. He wrote often, saying he'll be back soon. I was worried, spending all this time alone. No one was there for me, so I cried.

The school told me I had to be living with a parent or guardian in order to attend school. So I dropped out. At the same time I stopped hearing from my brother. I started to worry more. The house was lonely. Everything around me felt dead. The walls were gray and lifeless. Being alone too long can make you go mad. I could understand how my mother had felt. So I left home as well. There was no reason to stay there. I packed what I had and I went off into the streets. As I snuck out the house, the evil people were waiting for me and stopped me in my tracks. The tall man said it was going to be alright. That they would take me somewhere safe. I didn't want to go to that jail where kids with no family went. He grabbed my arm, "let's go. It's time to go kid." I took my arm back from his grip and started running. I didn't want to go with them. I bet the neighbors ratted me out. They saw I was left alone and thought they should meddle. They needed to mind their own business. I still had a family, they were out there somewhere. I knew my mom would come back one day. I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction, running towards the park. 'I could hide in a tree and maybe they won't find me.' 

Sirens went off and that only made me feel tense. I hid in a bush since the trees were too high to climb. I held my breath as I heard footsteps come near. "No, she's nowhere to be found." More twigs crunched under heavy shoes, "it's no use then, we'll report back and get a team to continue the search." Then the sound of footsteps faded away. 

That night I ran to the hills, not knowing where I was going. I was tired but I kept walking and the hunger only made it worse. My mother used to tell me stories about the abandoned church on the top of the hill. That she used to always go there when she needed to clear her mind. She told me secrets about the church. About the layout of the different rooms within.

I didn't expect much when I got there, I just wanted to be somewhere that reminded me of my mother. This was the only place I knew. I would hide in the same spots she used to when she stayed out too late and it got dark. So every night I would stay in the minister's office, and during the day I would explore. The place was a crumbling ruin, but no one did anything about it. 

There was a piano in the front of the church. It was all covered up in a dusty cloth. I opened the piano and as I expected it was all old and the strings were rusty. A bit out of tune but it still played well enough.

Every day I replayed the songs my mother would love. She always used to listen to me when she had the time and that made me feel good. I had stopped playing when she left, but in that building I felt her there with me. Encouraging me to keep going, and to not mind my mistakes because everyone makes them. I played day and night to fill the emptiness in me and in the building. I thought maybe if she heard me she would come back. This was the hill she talked about, right? But the days got longer and I ran out of food quickly but I still played the piano wishing and hoping I would see her again. It wasn't her fault and like she said it wasn't mine either. If I had the money I would’ve taken care of her. 

I was starting to lose hope so I played my last song before I tried to set foot out into the world. 'What was I expecting? For her to really come out of nowhere?’ But there she was sitting in the first row of pews looking towards the altar humming along to the tune. As I saw her I finished the song quickly and ran towards the front. She looked back and it was as if she had never aged. I could have been hallucinating but I knew I felt her warm embrace when I ran to hug her. 

Nov 29 2014

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As Mother's day approaches, I found this story in my archives. I knew I had to post it. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed it! If you want to read more short stories you can find them under the Short Stories tab.

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