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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.
“Andy”
” 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”

I needed to breath. Calmly. I wanted her to stop talking as soon as she said ‘dead’. But she wouldn’t. She kept rambling about how i wasn’t alone and that although she barely knew me that she would keep track of me for whenever i get sent away. To where? An orphanage i supposed. Where i now belonged. The orphanage. Because I’m now an orphan. All those books ive read and movies I’ve seen about ones parents dying out of the blue did not prepare me for this. Could anything really prepare me. I mean, this isnt a fairy tail created by Disney. There might not be a happy ending here. Theres no prince in blue waiting to just rescue me from all this and live happily ever after with the wealth of his family. That sort of thing simply does not happen.
” i would take care of you of course but there is no room in my one bedroom apartment” i heard her say as if i wanted to live with her. She continued, ” and besides, wouldnt you want to go to a place with other kids.” As she kept talking i only half listened to her speech of how the death of my parents would be a good way to have fun. Why doesnt she just shut up already. I dont need to hear this. Not now. Not just after i found out my parents were dead.
“Where exactly are we going now? ” i asked. My voice raspy from The fact that I’ve been trying to hold back the tears.
” to your house, your going to need some cloths and stuff like that.”
” whose planning the funeral?”
” if you want i could do it, im pretty sure that you dont want to do that, nor do you know how to,” of course i dont know how to. Ive never had anyone close to me die before. Nor did i want anyone to.
” okay”
When we got to my house i opened the door and a simple memory came across my head. The memory from when it was Christmas and i got a dog. My parents made it seem as if they didnt get me anything.

“Perdoname andy pero se me olvido!” My mom have said that morning. In her spanish language that i could barely understand cause i never bothered to learn.
” english mom” i remember saying with my voice of ten years old.
” i said im sorry! What else do you want, ”
” nothing i guess” disapointment struck.
” que bueno but can you go open the closet door, you know the closet at the entrance for me and take out a blanket porque me dio un frio” she said. Her voice sweeter and happier and more giggly. My dad reading the newspaper at the recliner looked up at me and smiled. So as i opened the door i found a box with a bunch of holes in it. It was pretty big and heavy so i asked my dad what it was.
He looked at me and said ” did you really think we would forget our princess on Christmas.” I bet i looked really happy because then he said ” what you waiting for! Open it”
As i was opening it i heard a small wimp and then i instantly knew it was a puppy. Of course three years later it ran away and we never saw it again. But oh well… it kept destroying my shoes though i did love him.

As i was gathering my cloths and some other necessary items other memories kept comin and going. And i knew that my parents wouldnt want this to influence my plan and my future. So ill have to keep working hard, to make them proud.