Missing Danny

Thick, humid air weighed heavy in her lungs. Behind amber lenses, Aislyn’s eyes stung from the rising son as she stared at the house that had ushered her into the world and the scene of her unmaking. The garden was unattended, the flag pole empty, and rolled penny savers lined the front stoop.

Although a decade had passed, nothing had changed in her small bedroom. Movie posters lined the pale blue walls; comic books and graphic novels were stacked according to author; sketchbooks and journals lined shelves and swallowed a small desk.

Aislyn closed her bedroom door and stepped across the hall to her brother’s room. He was only fifteen when he disappeared and only three years her junior. Danny’s room was deep shade of taupe with pale blue accents in the rug and bedding. A drafting table was shoved under the pitched ceiling. The desk was barren save a few colored pencils.

“Where did—“ Aislyn began to ask the desk, but couldn’t begin to imagine the answer, didn’t want to know the answer. “Damn it, Danny.”

Returning to her room Aislyn shed her shirt and jeans, dropping them on the hope chest still full of household good and a double wedding ring quilt. Thoughts swam against the current of her mind as she stared up at the sloped ceiling dotted with plastic glow in the dark stars.

Horatio jumped onto the bed and spooned with her like a lover trying to quell his beloved’s fears. Tears would not come but Aislyn’s body shook with sobs. She grieved the answers that would not come and the memories lost and the family gone forever. Aislyn curled into a ball at the bottom of the twin bed, hugging herself, willing her body to collapse in on itself. Sobs undulated within her body while not a whimper escaped her quaking lips.

Photo: bittersweetvenom