Disappearing

By Amethyst Turner

Don't tell anyone

Into the night you go

Say goodbye

Apathetically

Prepare yourself

Practically

Elated by

A prospect of never

Returning here

It makes you see that

Neverland is

Going to come to you.

XXX

Amethyst liked Clark, but he made her miss Pippin.

Pippin was always full of energy and life -- Clark just sat, wrinkly and heavy, responding to Aimee only with weary glances from his milky eyes.

She poked the dog's folded eyebrow. "You're floppy," Amethyst informed him. The hound all but rolled his eyes. She lifted a fold of warm flesh and let it drop onto the soft seat of the car. Giggling, she did it again. "Flop, flop."

"You alright back there?" Davey asked. He'd been asking that this whole time, concerned because she didn't have a car seat. Aimee didn't really know why she needed a car seat when the car already had five seats.

She squished Clark's flab between her fingers, laughing to herself. "Yes."

Clark did have his own charm. He was warm and soft, and easy to cuddle with. He never moved, or walked away. He seemed solid -- never moving, never changing. Amethyst wrapped her arms around his wrinkly body. Maybe Davey would let them get out of the car and run around soon.

They'd left Little Rock about an hour ago. It felt like longer.

In the back seat, Amethyst had a lot of time to think and worry. Where were they going? She hoped Davey was taking her back to Minka, but was too scared to ask. Scared that he would say no and her hopes would be crushed. She couldn't imagine going back "home" now.

Clark didn't object when she tightened her hold on him. He was unmovable; a monument. An anchor. She would hold onto him, and hold on and hold on until there was nothing left to hold onto.

XXX

"Do you feel it?"

"No."

"Wait, move your hand down here . . ."

Libby watched her husband's face light up as the baby kicked. He grinned at her stomach and then at Libby, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He ran his fingers over her stomach, his fingertips tracing circles on her skin.

"I think it's a girl," she told him.

Richard nodded, pressing his lips to her baby bump. It was tiny at this point, but visible. Libby felt healthier, looking at it. She was gaining weight, now over ninety pounds. Richard encouraged her, saying that she was looking healthier every day. When she looked in the mirror, Libby believed him. Her skin glowed like it hadn't in years. Her ribs were only a faint outline on her chest, not a prominent cage of bones protruding out of her body.

She'd begun combing her hair in the mornings, usually in the shower. It felt soft again, not matted and mangy like usual. For the first time in years, she felt pretty.

"A girl would be nice," Richard said. Libby knew what he was thinking: another girl. She appreciated that he didn't say it aloud, though.

"Emma Rose." Libby smiled. Richard smiled, too. He planted another kiss just below her ribs, leaving a trail of them from the top of her stomach to her waist. She laid back on the couch, letting him kiss her.

Richard laid down with her, looking into her eyes. He held her gaze for a few seconds before saying, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you love me?"

She paused, looking at the man in front of her. In no way was he perfect, but he cared. He drank, he sold drugs. He hurt her sometimes. But right now, today, just laying on the couch with her and his daughter, Richard Turner wasn't despicable. Not perfect, but not bad.

"Maybe I'm starting to."

XXX

Davey didn't want to stop, but knew he had to. The drive from Little Rock to Frederick would be almost five hours, far too long for a three year old girl and bloodhound to sit around in a car.

He watched them run around from the hood of the rental sedan. The two of them were chasing after a stick. Hound vs. Human fetch. Clark ran much faster than Amethyst, but gave her the slobber-covered stick to hand back to Davey.

The phone rang just before the girl and the dog reached him. Davey yanked the door of the car open, digging through the glove compartment for his cell. His heart beat a million miles an hour as he pressed "talk".

"Annie?" He said, hoping to god it was his wife on the other side.

She exhaled into the receiver. "Davey?"

"Oh, honey," he sighed, collapsing into the front seat. He felt so relieved he could hardly speak. She hadn't died. Thank god, thank god. She was alive. "You're okay? You had the baby?"

She made a strangled noise, then fell silent for a moment. Panic mounted in Davey's chest, reigniting the flame of worry that had burned in his stomach throughout the trip.

"I named him David," she whispered. "Davey Jr."

David's lips twitched into a smile, despite his anxiety. "Davey Jr," he repeated. "We have a son." He didn't realize she was crying until a few seconds later. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"He's going to die."

His blood ran cold, freezing in his body. His heart stopped. His mind went blank. What? No, there had to be some mistake. Surely this wasn't what she meant. "What are you talking about, Annie?"

"He's going to die," she reiterated. "My baby's going to die without meeting his Daddy." Then she dissolved into sobs and would say no more.

XXX

Amethyst was sleepy, and she told Davey this, but he didn't respond.

Clark seemed to feel her pain. He kept drifting off, but every bump in the road awakened him. Poor doggy. His eyelids drooped so low Amethyst could only see the whites of his eyes, but she knew he'd resigned himself to staying awake, same as her.

Sleeping in the car wasn't an option. Cars made her nervous. She couldn't stop thinking of the day she jumped into the car after Daddy and woke up in the trunk.

"Do you have dreams?" She asked Clark. When he didn't answer, she went back to lifting his skin and watching it flop back down onto his body. He didn't seem annoyed anymore, just tired. She wished Clark could talk. Davey hadn't said anything since they'd stopped an hour or two ago.

Her eyelids drifted shut, fluttering open again a moment later. "Davey?" She called. No response. "Can we stop? I'm sleepy." He merely grunted, avoiding her eyes in the rearview mirror. Don't cry, she commanded herself. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. But a tear leaked out of her eye anyway. "I wanna go to sleep," she sobbed.

"Then sleep," he grumbled.

"I can't." Clark opened his eyes, glaring at the back of Davey's head. She gave the hound a watery smile. At least someone was on her side.

Davey sighed. "Then stay awake."

XXX

Sunita was about to close the shop when the girl came in.

She had dark hair and familiar eyes -- small and brown, framed with makeup far too mature for her age. She gave Sunita a wary glance, not a glimmer of recognition to be found in those hard brown eyes.

But Sun recognized her. And she remembered her name, now.

"Sophie!" She cried, with emotion she hadn't meant to betray. The girl looked at her, stared for several seconds.

She slammed the door behind her when she left.

XXX

Sophie didn't know where she was going at this point. All she knew was that she had to get away from Jamestown Coffee Shoppe, and she had to do it fast.

Sunita. Sunita Fellerson, of course. How had she not foreseen this? How had Sophie not recognized the woman before the woman recognized her?

She knew too much, too much to be around, but she was chasing Sophie. She could hear the woman's footsteps slapping down on the pavement behind her, shouting for her to stop. No, no, she couldn't stop, could never stop. Keep running, she'll get tired.

Sophie felt angry to bursting point at herself. How could she have been so stupid? She should have known that coming back to Newport was a bad idea. People knew her here. Even three years later, people knew her.

For an eight year old, Sophie considered herself pretty fast. She wove her way down the backroads, gaining a steady lead over Sunita. God, why'd she have to pick Jamestown? Any other coffee shop, any other employee at the counter and this would not be happening.

The truth about Sunita Fellerson was not dark or morbid. Put simply: the woman was entirely too easy to talk to, and this ruined everything.

Her feet beat the pavement in a pattern that grumbled she knows, she knows, she knows.

Because if she knew her, then Sophie existed. And the last thing she could afford to do right now was exist.

XXX

She
She screams in silence
A sullen roit penetrating through her mind
Waiting for a sign to smash the silence with the brick of self control

Are you locked up in a world that's been planned out for you?
Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?
Scream at me until my ears bleed
I'm taking heed just for you

- She, Green Day