Chapter 7: "Left Behind"
- Abigail Handojo
- Jan 22, 2023
- 2 min read
By: Abigail Handojo
Promise Me You'll Live
Chapter 7: "Left Behind"
Amy's POV
“How do I look?”
I smooth down my skirt and spin in place. It’s the day I’ve been waiting for, New Year’s Eve! My hair is pinned in a low bun behind me and I’m wearing my favorite dress that took hours to find. A light blush rises on my cheeks from the excitement and I turn to face Lily, but she’s looking away.
“You’ve been distant all week, what’s up?”
“I’m just… worried you’ll catch a cold.”
“I’ll be fine, I’ll even wear a coat if it’ll make you feel better.”
She nods, still not meeting my eyes, and I know that’s not what this is about.
“Look, when I get back we can stay up past midnight and watch Disney movies or play trivia. We’ll end the year and start the year together.”
“Together?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” She looks up at me, stars in her eyes.
I slip on my coat and begin heading out the door.
“Wait-”
The desperation in Lily’s voice has me whipping around in panic. The folds of my skirt collide at the force. She winces apologetically.
“Uhm. Pretty.”
“What?”
“You look pretty.”
“Oh. Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
And with that, I’m dashing down the stairs to find my parents.
I check the master bedroom, they’re not here. I check the restrooms, they’re not here. The office, they’re not here. The living room, they’re not here.
Where are they?
I enter the dining room frantic. The ride will take long and I’m already late to the party!
Did they forget?
Through the window, I spot my father entering his car from the sidewalk, my mother doing the same on the other side. Warmth fills my chest as I make the realization. They’re waiting for me in the car, I just need to join them in the backseat and I’ll be on my way to the party!
I run to the front door and step out onto the driveway.
But then the doors shut and the car locks.
Wait, this isn’t right.
The engine starts and the car takes off.
Why are they leaving without me?
I run after the car. There must be some misunderstanding.
“Wait- no, no you’re leaving me- you-”
My shoe catches on the hem of my skit and I stumble to the concrete, scraping my knees.
“You left me.”
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