I think it is safe to say this has not been a good month.
Today right after school I had a driving lesson, and you know that feeling you get when something isn’t quite right? (This has nothing to do with cars or car accidents, just so you know). I hadn’t seen my brother at school all day- this isn’t exactly unusual, it’s a big school. But I was worried anyway. Because I worry so damn much.
Near the end of the lesson my driving instructor’s phone started buzzing. (My own phone had run out of batteries). He looked at it and said it was a number he didn’t recognize. I felt sick, but figured it was nothing, and carried on. The phone rang again and he still didn’t answer. When I got home, there was a police car parked down the road. I just refused to acknowledge it could mean anything. As I parked the car, I saw my youngest brother looking at me from the window. Again, I just refused to believe there was anything wrong. Because there never had been before.
I went in and there was a policeman there. My dad was talking to him. He told me my brother hadn’t come home from school, and it’d been two hours.
I just went blank. I should have been sick or cried or something. I did neither of these things. I phoned my best friend, because she knows a boy in my brother’s class- I was going to phone him and ask if he’d seen my brother at all. I phoned him, and asked. I wasn’t shouting or anything. I can’t really remember. The boy told me he’d seen my brother at lunchtime and he wasn’t talking to anyone.
I must have given that kid the scare of his life. He’s not very nice to my brother, from what I gather- but then again he’s not very nice to me, or to anyone, pretty much.
The policeman had already left to go searching- he had a photo and everything.
I was so scared. This had always been my worst nightmare…I hope to God it never happens again, to anyone. My form tutor had been saying, only today, that some girl walking home from school was approached by a man in a hoodie who tried to give her a lift and grabbed her arm.
I went upstairs to try my mobile phone (it was plugged into the recharger by now) and phoned Steven’s mobile. Dad had tried it and he said it was ringing but no-one was answering, so I thought I’d just try. Just in case.
The policeman answered, and said he’d found him, wandering about by the church. I literally screamed down the phone ‘YOU’VE FOUND HIM? YOU’VE FOUND MY BROTHER?’ and ran downstairs screaming to my parents that they’d found him and he was alright. I charged into the front garden to wait, and he came back. And I burst into tears and hugged him.
He’s here. He’s fine, although no-one is quite sure what he was doing. I think it’s something to do with the kids that were bullying him. But I don’t know. All I know is that that can never, ever happen again. I phoned all the people I’d phoned previously and told them he was alright.
The thing I dreaded most happened.
It didn’t happen.