It was all just a normal day….i woke up, got ready for school, ate and left. But I’ve had a feeling in my gut all day that something was wrong. That something was going to happen and that there was no way i could stop it, no way i could prevent it.
My parents as usual were late to pick me up from school, but today it was longer and more quiet. As if there was another cause for their tardiness other then their young, silly ways that has me sitting there at the curve waiting like a fool everyday. A couple more minutes pass by and i see a familiar car. A black Toyota. It was heading my way but i couldn’t remember whose car it was. Then i saw the driver and saw that it was my mothers friend. I always forget her name but i think it starts with a c…maybe an S.
As she pulled up next to the curve and turned off her car i assumed that she must be there for someone else. I mean…. why would SHE be there to pick me up if i barely know the woman. All i know her by is by the way her and my mother love to go shopping every other week. Unless…she was told by my mother who should be there instead of her, to pick me up. But why wasn’t my parents here? Why send a stranger?
“Andrea… “, Hearing her call my name like that gave me goosebumps down my back and on my forearms. The way she said it, her tone, her pitying tone. It yelled sadness and feelings i cant describe. Where was my mom….
I tried to keep it cool. As if nothing was wrong. As if i was okay with a complete stranger picking me up. As if this happened all the time. But i wasn’t cool with. How could i be. How could a teenager be okay with this. Sitting in a car of a friend of my mothers. Its not something im used to.
” i don’t like it when people call me Andrea”, i told her after a long time in dead silence.
” what would you like me to call you then?” , she asked, agian with her sad tone, and her pitying look on her face.
” okay Andy, im Celeste, but im pretty sure you already knew that though.”
” why are you picking me up? I mean, isnt that what my parents are supposed to do. Make sure i arrive home safely.”
She turned to look at me. Tears were coming down her cheeks. She knew something that i didn’t know. Something bad. She could not find a way to say it though. But i think i have an idea to why neither of my parents could pick me up. I couldnt admit it. I couldn’t even bare think of it. She had to tell me. Tell me that my assumptions were false. Tell me that my parents got stuck at work. Or their car broke down. Anything but that… i could feel my eyes water, my nose do that weird feeling from whenever im about to cry, and my face getting hot from it all.
” say it”, i tell her. With the little voice that i have left. ” say it and get done with it”
She looks horrible. She is breathing loud. Her nose is runny. Her eyes are red and her skin look sweaty. Just how a sad, crying person looks like. How a person that has had a family or friend pass away recently… how i would probably look like after she says my prediction of my parents absences and her pitying and watering eyes.
” Your parents….they’re….they …are….dead”