Somehow I convinced Sam to come with me, looking for dad.
Family ties, I suppose.
I can't help myself but wonder: Would Sam have joined me for a weekend road-trip if dad hadn't been missing? Would he even care?
We get two days together. Forty-eight hours. Two thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight minutes. One hundred seventy-two thousand and eight hundred seconds.
We were great together. The A-team. He even made me forget my loneliness.
At first I was able to keep my game-face up. But soon I remembered everything my mind had fought to repress the past few years. It was my job to look out for Sam.
He was my Sammy.
I damned near cried when he smacked the car of my black beauty and walked back to his house. Luckily, I was able to hold it off until he was out of sight.
I sat in the car for a couple of minutes, feeling miserable.
My life was meaningless. Sure, I could get out and look for John, but even if I found him, nothing would've changed. He left once, he could do it again.
I got out of the car, hesitantly making my way to the door. I was totalled; broken beyond reparability.
With a deep breath I decided to go in there and tell him the truth about me; about my loneliness, and my need to have a brother.