Prologue:
Hi. My name is Zaria Daft. My best friend is Layla. She has short strawberry-blonde hair, green eyes, and pale skin with little freckles across her nose. She has always been my best friend, but when I was 8 years old not only did my mom die, but something changed in Layla.
Flashback
"Mommy, are we there yet?" I asked my mom as we drove to the park.
"Almost," my mom said. Five minutes later we were at the park and my mom told me to go play. I went and played on the slide with Layla. After about 30 minutes I was thirsty so I went to the water fountain. When I got back everyone was crowding around something. They were all screaming and I heard some people saying things like "Call 911" or "What happened". I looked in the crowd but I couldn't find my mom or Layla. I started calling out their names, then I heard Layla screaming "Zaria!" and she was sobbing.
I screamed, "Layla! Where are you!" at the top of my lungs, and the crowd parted until I could see Layla on the ground with a gunshot in her shoulder.
"OH MY GOSH! LAYLA!" Now I was crying. I asked the people around me, "Where's mommy? WHERE'S MY MOM?" Now everyone was looking at me with sympathy in their eyes. By then I was sobbing and utterly confused. Then the ambulance showed up along with my dad, the FBI, and Layla's parents. I was so scared. I started throwing a temper tantrum and my dad pick me up and drove me home.
Chapter 1:
~7 years later~
It's 2 months after my 17th birthday. Today is the 7 year anniversary of my mother's death. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who remembered that. Ever since my mom's death everyone has been acting especially strange. My father acts like my mother never died, but I know he remembers. I know by the way he treats me. He never talks to me anymore. It pains him because I look so much like her. I have the same wavy, dark brown hair, almost black, the same striking blue-green eyes, the same pale skin, same british accent, and the same sarcastic personality. The only difference was my light pink highlights that I got when I was 13.
I just realized something. I've never seen my mother's grave, not even for a funeral. She never had one. Since it was the day of my mother's death, I decided to bring her flowers. It seemed like a normal thing to do. I began to walk home from school. It was cold. The freezing snow burned on my cheeks like fire. I could see my white breath. I wore my thickest coat and snow boots. I walked as fast as possible on the icy sidewalk. When I walked into the flower shop I immediately knew what I was looking for. I remembered that my mother's favorite flowers were light pink roses because she always gave them to me after my ballet performances. I slowly walked up to the mansion that was my home. It wasn't really a mansion. It was just a large house in London. It was a stone house with flowers surrounding it. I hated it. It was too happy for our miserable family. I walked inside and saw my father buried in his laptop as usual.
"Hey dad?" I asked.
"I'm working! Go help Sylvia with the kids while she makes dinner." dad replied in an annoyed tone. Sylvia was my step-mom. The "kids" were my half-brother and sister. My sister was 5 and my brother was 8 months old.
"Please dad. Listen. I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find mom's grave?" I asked hopefully. He hated when I asked him about mom.
"Why on earth would you like to know that?" He remarked.
"I realized I had never been to her grave, and I thought since its been 7 years since her death I should bring her flowers." I explained.
"Zaria, You know we don't talk about Alice in this household."
" WHY WON'T YOU JUST TELL ME!" I shouted and stormed off. I was going to find her. I wanted to know the truth. NOW! I decided to start at the graveyard near the park that she always loved. Nothing. I went to every graveyard in London, and I still found nothing. I went to every morg and found nothing. I even went to the sheriff's office and all they found was a missing persons flyer. This was getting weird. Where was my mom?
