Free A New Death: CJ's Story by Josh Vasquez

I. Panic
    I could tell Mom and Dad were arguing about something. They always went into their room and closed the door to argue. It was a rare occurrence; they hardly ever argued. My sister, Hailey, who is eight, hadn’t quite caught on to this yet. She continued to obliviously play with her toys. But I’m thirteen, I know what’s going on in there. There was only one other reason they closed their door like that, and well, that happened mostly late at night when I was supposed to be asleep. Gross.
    I guess I have it good though. I know a lot of kids, some of my friends, that aren’t so lucky to have both parents together. And not only together, but parents who were still madly in love with each other. Again, gross.
    Hailey put in the headphones of the cheap mp3 player I bought her last Christmas. I could hear the music blaring from where I’m sitting near the wall of my bedroom. Most likely one of the countless “teen” musicals she liked. Dad told me to take her upstairs and play in my room. This was strange to me, because even when they did go into their room to “discuss” things, they never told me to take Hailey upstairs and play.
    With Hailey off in her own little world, I leaned in close to the wall and placed my ear against it. My room was situated on the second floor directly above my parent’s room. Most of the time the conversations were too muffled to make any words out, but I was really curious this time. I held my breath as I listened.
    It was hard to understand what they were talking about; I kept hearing just a few words and phrases. It sounded like my mother was crying. The sound of muffled sobs traveled through the vibrations in the wall.
    Why is she crying?
    The only words that made any sense were spoken by my father.
    “Leaving… Not safe… Cabin…”
    Leaving? Where are we going? I thought. What’s not safe? And why would we go to the cabin now? We still have school tomorrow.
    The cabin was an old farmhouse that my family restored on some land my grandfather inherited out past Statesboro, Georgia. It was our own little vacation spot. We’d go up there a lot during the summer months. There was a small lake nearby where we’d fish, kayak, and swim. In the cooler seasons, we’d go to hunt; we had several stands throughout the woods.
    But now was not the time to go to the cabin, it was the middle of the semester. Hailey and I were still in school, and Mom and G-Mom were both teachers. Thanksgiving break wasn’t for another week. Why would we be going now?
    I went to press my ear back against the wall, but I felt a nagging presence to the side of me.
    It was Hailey.
    “What are you doing?” she asked, her little eyebrows furrowed.
    “Nothing,” I answered, as I pulled myself back from the wall.
    “Ooh… Are you trying to listen in on Mom and Dad?”
    I shrugged her off and walked towards my dresser. I could feel her little, icy-blue eyes follow me. I picked up a model car off the dresser, inspected it nonchalantly, and then placed it back down in its spot. I turned back to face her. She was still intently staring me down.
    “What?” I asked.
    She placed a hand on her hip, which was now slightly cocked out to the side. This stance was a result of spending much time with our Aunt Laura when Hailey was younger. I couldn’t help but crack a smile briefly. It was funny.
    Hailey was the spitting image of our mother. Especially since she just got her haircut short, right at the shoulders; the same hairstyle my mother sported. Blonde hair, blue eyes, same facial features, the only genetic trait she seemed to inherit from my father’s side of the family was height. Hailey was short.
    Physical appearance is where the similarities between her and Mom ended, because Hailey may have looked like Mom, but she acted just like Aunt Laura. The same facial expressions, the same mannerisms, the same witty comebacks ; the girl was the essence of our aunt. Hailey was a combination of both my Mother and