Sneaking Out

Chapter 1: Sneaking Out

Nevaeh’s small hand squeezed mine. She looked up at me nervously, her chocolate eyes questioning my judgment. I gave her an encouraging smile and nodded stiffly, though I myself was doubtful. We stood in the plaza of Perry Woodard, our dance bags slung over our thin shoulders.

Nevaeh’s long dark hair was pulled back into a pony which she played with whenever she was nervous. Today, her tiny fingers were pulling themselves through her thick hair as she bit her lip in nervousness. “Are you sure?” she asked me in a hushed tone and I smiled.

“Of course,” I assured her and it was then that we made our move. The woman at the front desk bent down to retrieve a pen and without her disdainful eyes watching us, we took off running.

My long legs carried my faster than Nevaeh and she was soon falling behind. I slowed my pace and grunted as I hoisted the small four year old up and into my arms. Sprinting across the street I let out a sigh of relief as my converse hit the gravel of the 7-11 parking lot.

Smiling proudly, I carefully set her down and she beamed up at me. “We did it! We really did it!” she shouted gleefully as she hugged my legs. “We finally snuck out,” I whispered, my voice hoarse and out of breath, but my smile wide, I was glad to be rid of the secretary’s condescending glares.

“Shall we?” I asked and Nevaeh’s brown eyes sparkled as she nodded, causing her hair to swish and sway. I lifted her back onto my hip as I pushed open the doors. Once we had cold flavored ice in our mouth our smiles were even wider. Nevaeh took another sip of her cherry flavored drink before giving me a red-stained smile.

“Jess?” she asked and I raised my eyebrows playfully, “Yes?” Giggling, she leaned back on me and rested her tiny head in my lap.

“You’re the best friend in the whole World,” she said with a smile and I laughed as I shook my head.

“That’s it you asked for it!” I shouted as I leapt forward and began to tickle her thin stomach. We both laid back, holding our stomachs from laughter, and as I turned my head and met her chocolate brown eyes, I knew I was staring into the eyes of my best friend. A friend who I love, a friend was great and a friend who I miss.


Chapter 2: Amber Alert

The woman’s voice rang in my ears, echoing loudly and fading out at parts. Tears slid down my cheeks freely though I tried to hold them back. My chest contracted with sobs as I stared blurry eyed at the screen. At that moment, regret hit me so strongly I gasped aloud. Regret for taking her for granted. For thinking that my young friend would always be safe. For never thinking that one day she’d be gone.

It all started when, I clicked on the television. Plopping down onto the sofa, I began surfing through the channels. Different images flicked through my vision as I continued to search when one picture caught my eye. The face of my five year-old friend, Nevaeh, smiled back at me. I shook my head in disbelief as I turned the volume up higher. “I repeat, this is an amber alert for a five year-old, brunette girl, Nevaeh Amyah Buchannan.” The news reporter smiled brightly as if this were the greatest of news, when in reality, my heart had just been broken.

About five minutes passed as I continued to stare at the screen. By now, unwelcome tears were flowing down my cheeks in rivets and my throat felt as if a vice was closing down around it. The smiling news woman waved goodbye and a cartoon came on to take her place, both of which I was oblivious to. I felt my hand clutch at the angel necklace hanging from my neck, praying to God that this was all a bad dream that I could somehow wake up from. If only my prayers could’ve been answered.

When someone goes missing, you’d think life would
stop. I know I did, I wanted to do nothing else than stare at the face of my friend who smiled back from missing children flyers. But life did go on, weeks passed, then came months, but still no sign of her. People were beginning to lose hope, until the waiting suddenly came to an abrupt halt. Once again I was watching the news, the same perky news reporter staring at me through the screen, the same smiling picture of my young friend. The only difference was the red banner at the bottom of the screen.

At first, I thought it was a mistake. Rubbing my eyes frantically I found that the banner remained the same. Instead of reading, ‘Amber Child Report’, it read, ‘Missing Girls Body Found’. Guilt engulfed me as the reality of the situation set in. When was the last time I’d hugged her? What were the last words her magical voice ever said to me? My stomach throbbed from sobbing and my throat felt hoarse and rough as I turned the television off. Then, I wept. I let more unspoken words drip down in the form of tears, and by letting all of my emotions go, I wept for my dead friend.

In truth, I can’t recall how many times I’ve wept over Nevaeh’s fate, though I know the number is high. I believe that the hardest thing was accepting that not everyone will be around forever. It’s hard not to take advantage of those close to you for granted because it’s hard to imagine a life without them. But fate doesn’t always give you a choice, sometimes you can’t choose when the last time you’ll see someone is. If anything good has come out of this tragic loss, it’s the realization to tell your family you love them, to hug your friend a little harder than usual, and to tell that special person how much they mean to you. Because in the end, you never know when you won’t be able to anymore.

R.I.P Nevaeh Amyah Buchanan 2/4/04-3/24/09
I'm hoping to add more to this dedication to her soon. Thanks for reading.

Amber Alert

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Texte: No Part of this book is to be redistributed or copied in any manner.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 27.09.2011

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Widmung:
This is dedicated to my dear departed friend, Nevaeh Amyah Buchanan. She died at the age of 5 years old and she will forever hold a piece of my heart. Please understand that by writing this, I've had old emotions resurfaced and it may take awhile for me to post more, due to recovery. I understand that this is not proper book format, this is strictly made in rememberance of her.