All Chapters of Left Behind for Ten Years, I Disappear: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

Heather's POVI had just submitted my international volunteer program application when Grandma's voice came from the yard."Hey, brat! Are the chili peppers and tomatoes done drying yet? What are you dawdling for? The sun's already past its peak!"I immediately locked my phone and hurried out into the yard. "Coming!"My paternal grandma, Eleanor Cain, was sitting under the eaves, shucking corn and talking to herself. "Your dad called the day before yesterday. He said he's coming back to see you next month."She tossed the leaves into the basket, her tone as casual as if she were mentioning something trivial."It's not easy for him to make it back even once a year. He works hard to make a living in the city. When you see him, don't give him the cold shoulder." I nodded. "Okay.""Your mom also said she'll send some things back at the start of fall," Grandma added. "Your parents may be divorced, but they still care about you. Don't be like that brat next door, always complaining

Heather's POVAfter dinner, my family and I went back to their home in the city.Hazel pushed open the door to her bedroom and said goodnight without even looking back. Mom pulled a thin blanket from the closet and handed it to me."Sorry, but you'll have to take the couch tonight."The couch was too short, so I curled up, tossing and turning. I just couldn't fall asleep.They hadn't drawn the living room curtains. Moonlight spilled through the window and cast a perfect spotlight on the wall across from me, where a row of framed photos hung.From left to right, they showed Hazel in kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, and high school.I didn't know how much time had passed when I heard Mom sigh from the master bedroom. "Seeing her today… I don't know. I felt kind of bad for her."Dad's voice drifted over from the bedroom. "What's wrong?""It's just… that sweatshirt she was wearing. It was the one I sent her two years ago. The sleeves are so short already," she said,

Third-Person POV"I just can't stand by and watch anymore," Lynette said.She rested the laundry pole against the wall and wiped her hands. When she spoke, she sounded like she had been holding this in for years."You don't know what Heather's life has been all these years, but I saw it with my own eyes."William stood frozen in the courtyard, a cigarette still between his fingers. "What do you mean?"Lynette sighed. "When your mom brought those straws out back then, I was standing right there. They were the same length. No matter which one Heather picked, your mom would've called it the short one."The cigarette slipped from his fingers and hit the ground.He turned and rushed into the house. Eleanor was sitting at the table, calmly drinking tea, her expression still the same. "Mom? Is what Lynette said true?"She set down her cup without even looking up. "What would some outsider know?""Were those two straws the same length or not?" he questioned.Eleanor finally looked

Heather's POVFor the next three months, I received messages from the organization every day.Sometimes they were from Dad. "Heather, I know you're angry, and I don't blame you. Just stay safe over there. If you need anything, tell the organization, and I'll figure something out."Other times, they were from Mom. "Heather, I've been doing a lot of reflecting lately. We really did fail you. Still, you're my daughter, and that will never change. You don't have to reply. I just want to know that you're safe."On a few occasions, they were from Hazel. "Grandma Eleanor had a stroke. It's not serious, so don't worry. I'm not asking you to come back and see her. I just wanted to let you know. Don't worry about us. Just take care of yourself."The most recent message came from both Mom and Dad two weeks ago."Heather, I just landed a new project and made some money. I'm going to save up a little more and buy us all plane tickets to see you. Wait for us.""I know you're still mad at me.

Heather's POVAfter that meeting, I submitted a request to the base. It was simple."I, Heather Foster, have no family. From this point forward, I do not wish to receive or be informed of any contact requests made on my behalf by anyone claiming to be my family."Hector looked at the form, then glanced at me. "You sure?""I'm sure."He didn't say anything else before signing the form and filing it away.After that, no more notes appeared outside my tent. I heard from my coworkers that the organization continued to receive occasional requests for contact from back home during the first year.Sometimes there were two or three in a week. Sometimes several in a single day. The system rejected every one of them.By the second year, the requests became less frequent. Eventually, they stopped altogether. I wasn't sure if they had given up or finally accepted it. I didn't care to know, though.On the day my two-year term ended, Hector placed a completion certificate and a return ticke