Sit back, relax, and
“I’m so excited!" I exclaim. "It’s 24 hours until she comes home!” I jump up and down on my messy bed.
“Who?” Dana, my friend asks. She flips through pages of some trendy magazine, its colorful images flying by. I roll my eyes.
“Amanda, my sister that's in college, remember?” Tomorrow, we’re all going to Disney World for a whole week! I have waited for this since school ended two weeks ago.
“Oh yeah I forgot,” she says, taking a bite of the chocolate chips cookies, my mom brought us. Her mousy brown hair flickers into her face, and she pushes it back behind her ear. "Well I'm going to head home now." She stands up and gives me a hug.
"I'll see you next week." I tell her.
"Have fun." She opens the door. “Don’t forget to take lots of pictures.”
The Next Day
We just finished putting our luggage in the car and were eating our breakfast when I hear a car door slam. I race to go open the door, thinking its Amanda. Instead, there’s a policeman standing there. “Hi there, are you Amanda’s sister?” His mustache moves with his words.
“Where is she?” My heart pounds hard against my ribs.
His blotchy face becomes dark as his eyes lower. “I have some bad news, he says.
“What type of bad news?” I scream. My mom and my Dad come running to the door as I sink to the ground, still clutching the doorknob. My dad tries to console me to no avail.
This has to be a joke. A very sick joke.
"Your daughter was in accident, and she didn't make it." The officer shifts from foot to foot, not comfortable with this part of his job.
“You’re telling me Amanda’s dead?” I yell, tears streaming down my face.
“May I come inside?” He asks.
“Sure come in.” My dad says.
The officer comes in and closes the door behind him. He sits on the velvet couch. My parent sit across from him, their faces solemn. I sit next to my father and put my head on his shoulder.
“It’s okay sweetie,” he whispers, patting my head softly.
“So how did she… die? My mother says, trying to keep her composure. Though she looked like she was about to break any second now.
“Amanda got hit by a car at the airport, and the driver sped away,” he explains.
“A hit and run?” My father yells.
Officer Pikes, as his name tag reads, stands to leave. He regards at me with sympathy and says, “I’m deeply sorry for your loss. We will do all that we can, to find the person who did this.”
“Thanks,” I reply. I closed the door and turned around to face my parents. “She’s not dead.” I say.
“Didn’t you hear what Officer Pikes said?” My mom asks. “Maya-”
“No! Don’t try and convince me otherwise!” I yell, stomping up the stairs. I get to my room and slam the door shut. I jump on my bed and get in the covers, and cry so hard, I can barely breathe.
It’s all a lie, or a joke. Amanda’s not really dead, she’ll knock on the door and then we’ll be on our way. I better go downstairs and wait for her, there’s no way she’s gone, no way.
I walk out my room and walk down the stairs. With each step, I’m getting more and more confident, that she’s still alive.
“Honey, what are you doing?” My dad asks, as I sit on the floor in front of the door.
I give him a blatant response. “Waiting for Amanda.”