The Lonely

The next day, my boss called to ask where I was. I lied and said I was sick. If the world was ending, I wasn't going into work.

Instead, I went to my parents' house. My mom was a teacher and she had this week off for Christmas, but she must have been out running errands. Instead, I found my dad upstairs in his workshop. I knocked and he nearly cut off his finger. "Sorry, Dad," I said.

"That's okay," he said. "I'm always glad to see you. I didn't think it would be until Saturday, though."

"I was just lonely," I said. "No one to talk to."

"You can always call me, you know" my dad said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," I said. "You and mom."

He looked up from his work table. "Who?" he asked.

I rushed out of the room. I checked every picture I could find. Me, my brother, my sister, my dad.

My mom was gone. How was that even possible? How could I exist if she didn't? As I felt myself begin to cry, the sound of the workshop above gradually stopped. I looked up and then down at the picture. Me, my brother, and my sister.

My mom and dad no longer existed.