June 18, 2021

My heart is beating too hard. I lean over the railing at the park, dry heaving into the murky duck pond. But I can't stop. They are coming for me. Coming after me.

I just want to sleep. I just want to escape them. But they are relentless. I messed up, and now the peace of the days of tossing bread into the slightly polluted duck pond with Sarah is gone forever. Those beautiful summer days when Dad was too drunk to know, Sarah would declare a mini-adventure day. And a day of ducks and sunshine would commence. A day free of the usual worries, that of Dad's temper or social services. Just ducks. Just sun. Just Sarah.

"You know she doesn't care about you, right?" He says. He never shows his face to me. His back is always turned. But at least he is company; at least he isn't after me, trying to hurt me.

"Sarah loves me! She would always stand between Dad and me! She would help me with my homework always!" I yell at him. I turn to the ducks; our conversation must have gotten too loud because they are swimming to the other side of the brown pond.

"No," he says in a small voice. Maybe he realized we were scaring the ducks. "She doesn't; if she loved you, she wouldn't abandon you to them. She would help you fight them. They are evil, right? So she must be evil too. She doesn't care about you."

August 1, 2021

"I'm sorry, Ms. Joyce, but after having filed a missing person report, there is nothing to do but wait. We have officers investigating your brother's case actively.

"Please, if there is any news, you will call me instantly?" Sarah asked, pacing in her tiny kitchen, stove, sink, dishwasher, stove, sink, dishwasher. It formed an internal prayer chant of sorts for her. "You have all his information, right? Darin Joyce, 6' 2" caucasian, 25 years old, brown hair, brown eyes?"

"Yes, ma'am, all of this is in missing person report you filed. I assure you, ma'am, we are doing our absolute best to find your brother."

June 23, 2021

The sun is shining today, but I can't stop to admire the hum of the city streets; I have to get to the news station. Everyone has to know that they are out to get them. I was first because I overheard their plans, but soon they will be after everyone. I have to protect the world. I have to protect Sarah.

"Sarah is one of them, you know." The little girl in pigtails said.

"Oh, I don't think Sarah is one of them. I think Sarah just doesn't care about him. Honestly, I don't think anyone cares about him." The man who never shows his face replies.

"Oh, no, Sarah is the reason that all of this started. She came up with the plan to ruin the world."

"Sarah is not one of them," I say through gritted teeth. All of their bickerings are giving me a headache.

I run to the door of the News Station and begin to beat on the door. The grime of the condensation from the humidity clings to my fingers and temple. No one is coming. Why are they not coming? Does no one realize the world is ending? Does no one know they are out to get us? I am the only one that recognizes that the world is broken?

"The world is broken because Sarah is breaking it. No one is good in the world. You probably shouldn't even stay alive." The woman with dark eyes said, patting my hand

"It is Sarah's fault that you feel so bad." The little girl said, skipping her rope

"It isn't like she loves you anyway." No-face man chimed in.

August 5, 2021

Sarah ran to the ringing phone plugged in next to her mussed bed. Tripping on the ball of laundry in her hallway, she misses the call just by a hair.

"Shit," rubbing her knee as she checks her missed calls, clicks on the most recent, and grinds her hands into her thighs as the ringing goes from one tone to the next.

"Detective Aslow."

"Yes, um, this is Sarah Joyce. I missed a call from this number."

"Yes. Ms. Joyce. I wanted to let you know that we have a sighting of your brother in Maryland."

"Maryland? But but that is 2 states over."

"Yes, there seems to have been some sort of an altercation between some suspicious persons in a subdivision. Patrol officers were dispatched because there had been some serious gang activity in their area. They have been recruiting at the local high school, you see."

Sarah rolled her head, trying to loosen her neck muscles from the clenched position they had been in for a month.

"So anyway," Detective Aslow continued, "When the patrol officers arrived, it looked like someone had assaulted some of these gang members. They said the person was proficient in martial arts and matched your brother's description."

Sarah ran her fingers down the side of the picture frame that held the picture of Darin the day he received his black belt. It was a heartbreaking photo. He was looking to the side seeking Dad's approval. The kind, gentle son, never tough enough for their father, but Darin had always said it was a fine accomplishment no matter why he had done it. He never let her replace the photo.

She shook her head, "So what's next?"

"We have placed an alert for the region. Hopefully, we will hear soon."

"Ok, thank you for the call."

June 26, 2021

Sarah's building always looks a little bit like molded cream cheese. I walk up the steps, looking for them around every corner. On the last landing, I glance over the railing and see how far the fall is, trying not to contemplate what would happen to me if I jumped. Sarah answers on the first buzzer.

The door flys open. Sarah is standing there in her pajama pants and her dishwater blonde hair on the top of her head.

"Hey Kiddo, come on in!"

I barge past her and start grabbing her blankets and bags. Why is she wasting time? "No time, we have to go. We have to go now."

Sarah's face crumples in on itself. "Dar," she begins slowly.

"They are coming, Sarah. The world is ruined. No one will listen, but I know. I overheard their plans, they told me."

She carefully grabs my hand and tries to get me to sit down. "Darin, I think we need to call Dr. Ziegler."

"NO!" I throw the blankets on the ground. "You have to pack. We have to leave!"

"She wants them to get you" "She doesn't care about you" "She is a part of all of this." They all start talking on top of one another.

I cover my ears. "STOP IT. STOP TALKING!" I begin to spin, trying to land a kick or a strike at one of them as they speak. The man, the woman, the girl.

I run out of the moldy cream cheese building. I hear Sarah yelling

"Wait! Darin, your bleeding."

June 26, 2021

Sarah stands in her destroyed living room. The broken shards of her lamp on the floor. Her brother's blood stains the carpet. She knows she will cry later, but for now, she digs her phone out of her pocket and Googles, "Police Station near me." An emptiness she hasn't felt in two years settles in.

August 6, 2021

"So he is being transported directly?"

"Yes, Ms. Joyce, we are taking him to St. Mary's. You said that is where his psychiatrist is at?"

"Yes, officer, that is correct."

"Ok, we will need you to arrive at St. Mary's at 3:00 pm to sign his intake paperwork."

"Ok. Thank you."

Sarah locks the apartment and slowly places one foot at a time on the stairs. The world feels sticky and slow. Car, lights, drive, watch for traffic. Without feeling like any time has passed at all, she arrives at the brick building of St Mary's. Taking a deep breath, she prepares for the inevitable conversation with Dr. Zieglar. Clonazepam, Olanzapine, Sodium valproate, Schizoaffective Disorder.

She breathes in, trying to focus on the time that coming. The time when his mind will clear. Looking out the window, her eyes fill with tears as she looks at the duck pond.