Free If You're Gone by Brittany Goodwin Page A

I just wanted to help.”
    The corners of my mouth turned up in a small smirk. “Seems to be your theme.”
    “At least I’m good for something,” he said as he smiled. His eyes lit up again and I had to look away. “I’ll see you around.”
    “Yeah.” I bit at my thumbnail. “See ya.”
    My face grew warm as he walked away and I batted my eyelashes through oncoming teardrops. There was always something that reminded me of Brad. As the tears streamed faster I realized I was no longer breaking down. I was officially broken.

6. Bring Me Back to Life
    It had been three months and thirteen days, but it might as well have been years, or centuries even. Thousands of posters were distributed and just as many hours were spent searching to no avail. I had grown numb. The only thing I could feel was a constant, throbbing pain in my heart, intermixed with bouts of anger and denial.
    Despite what everyone said, no one understood what losing Brad was like. People can only understand things they have experienced, and sometimes not even then. A break-up, a divorce, even death; the pain of these events had been experienced by practically everyone around me. But no one understood the way it felt not knowing. I needed answers. I needed resolution. I needed closure . No matter what the truth was.
     
    I forced myself out of bed and planted my feet on the cool wood floor. I had been dreading this day for weeks. For my friends, senior year meant being one step closer to freedom. But for me, it meant walking the halls as ‘that girl who dated the missing guy’. That girl who completely let herself go. That girl who lied to the police. I couldn’t wait to see what superlative I received in the yearbook.
    I glanced at the stack of sheet music that sat in the corner of my room, collecting dust along with my untouched acoustic guitar. Singing had been one of my favorite past times since I was young, and I had become a strong vocalist over the past few years. Yet now, ever since the morning after graduation, the thought of opening my mouth in song made me cringe. Getting out of choir practice at church had been easy-I simply stopped showing up and no one asked questions. But avoiding music in school was going to be a different story. I didn’t know what would come out if I tried to sing again, and I was doomed to find out in third period Honors Choir.
    As I brushed my teeth, I could smell Mom’s buttermilk pancakes sizzling on the griddle, accompanied by bacon being fried. As usual, I wasn’t hungry. Outside my door, Graham and Eliza tore down the hallway to the kitchen. I wondered how they always had so much energy in the morning. I couldn’t remember the last time I had that kind of childlike enthusiasm. I pulled on a pair of capris from off of the floor and thumbed through my closet for a top to wear, landing thoughtlessly on a flannel button-down. One arm at a time, one button at a time . Brad’s ring still hung on the chain around my neck, but I tucked it inside the collar of the shirt.
    I took a long look in the mirror. I had tan lines from days of searching in the noon sun, yet my skin had never been so dull and lifeless. I secretly hoped that people would see right through me, like a translucent being that no one bothered to notice. As I stared at my reflection, I tried to tell myself to shake the negativity. This was my senior year, focusing in on the event that my friends and I had been looking forward to since the first day of freshman orientation. Why can’t I just be excited? I had known I'd be entering this year alone as Brad would be at college. But the type of alone I was feeling was nothing that I could have prepared for.
    “Dear Lord,” I whispered, squeezing my eyelids shut. “Please find him. Help me. Save me. Anything…” I shook my head. It was useless.
    Crouched on the floor, I fished around with one hand under my bed for my book bag. I stretched my arm farther and the tips of my fingers brushed the wooden