Run-away

     i will never forget that day. it was a Wednesday. i was in Mr. Browning's class, laughing with Ant, Artyem, and Lena. Alanna hadn't been there all week because she'd gotten strep throat the weekend before. Artyem was drawing his usual sketches of weapons he was designing, Lena was drawing a picture to look like photos of her and her family spread across the page, Ant was tapping her pencil on her paper as she tried to think of something to draw, and i was finishing up a random sketch of a bunch of characters from Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels.

  

     That's when Ms. Williams walked in. Ms. Williams was old as the hills and had been at the high school longer than anyone else. Her face may have been lined with wrinkles, but she stood up straight and there was a distinctly defiant glint of youthfulness in her steely blue eyes. i had worked with her as a Student Aide - i hated it, in case you were wondering - for some community service hours and she was really nice. She and Mr. Browning began whispering, looking over at me every so often. it was disconcerting and after a while i gave up trying to finish my sketch. i was too distracted by the whispering and the fact that a good portion of the class was shooting furtive glances in my direction. Artyem tried to lighten the situation.

      "Geez, Willow, what'd ya do???" he teased. i ignored him and he got the point.

 

     After entirely too much whispering and peeking, which gave fear plenty of time to settle in my gut, Ms. Williams finally got to the point.

     "Willow, i need you to come with me to the office." i closed my sketchbook and slid off my stool.

     "Bring your things with you, please." i froze, then slowly gathered my sketchbook, pencils, eraser, and pencilbag together, tossing it all into my Cheers bag. i followed her out of the studio without so much as a wave to my friends. i didn't want to turn around and see the class, which had become eerily quiet, staring at me. Feeling their eyes boring into the back of my skull was already driving me crazy.

 

     A blast of hot air hit me as i walked outside, but i was strangly cold. We walked into the office and everyone looked at me there too...but not with curiosity. Their looks were of pity. That did NOT help my nervousness. it felt like i was made of lead. Ms. Williams led me past all the staring faces back to the principal's office. Mr. Blake was talking to a middle-aged woman in a navy pantsuit and a blonde ponytail. She was leaning forward in one of the chairs in front of Mr. Blake's desk with her legs crossed. They shut up as soon as Ms. Williams opened the door. She herded me inside then closed it. i stood there, tempted to just run out of that room, out of the office, and out of the school. i didn't know what was going on, but i was terrified.

 

     Mr. Blake told me to have a seat, which i did...slowly. The woman faced me. She was wearing a nametag, one of the fancy metal ones, not the cheap hey-my-name-is-_____-and-i'm-only-working-here-because-i-can't get-another-job-since-i-clearly-lack-brain-power variety. The nametag had Susan Barnes engraved on it. Somehow knowing her name didn't actually make me feel any better at all.

 

     Mr. Blake started to speak...

 

     i know i said i remember it like it was yesterday, but actually, this is where everything got fuzzy. After this point things are difficult to remember, but i'll try my best. The point of the matter is that Dawn was in an accident and things didn't look good at all. She was blind-sided by a drunk-driver who ran a red light. She was heading to the diner. i don't remember what he said exactly, just that there was much apologizing and too much pity etched into his face. i don't remember leaving the school, but the next thing i knew, i was sitting in the iCU waiting room. i couldn't go in because i was still underage. i wasn't sure i wanted to anyway, which made me feel like an awful person. i could suddenly feel the cold again and hunched down in my seat, crossing my arms. i was staring at a magazine on the coffee table for a long minute before i realized i couldn't actually read it. Everything was blurry. i realized i was crying. i wiped my eyes furiously and stared at the floor and counted the dots on the ugly tiles.

 

     Time dragged on forever. i took to staring at the clock and trying not to think. i swear the clocks in hospitals are rigged to move ten times slower than they should. After what seemed like an hour, but was really only fifteen minutes, a man in a grey suit stood in the doorway of the waiting room that led to the hallway outside. Susan Barnes, who was sitting beside me, went over to him. There was more whispering, and he handed her a pen and a file that i was almost positive was filled with stuff about me, along with a clipboard that had a few papers attached to it. She wrote on those, then carried the file back to her seat, flipping through it. The man left.

 

     Years passed...well, not really. it just felt that way. Really, it was only another half-hour. A faceless nurse in ugly pink scrubs came out of the iCU. i willed her to move past us and out into the hallway, but she didn't. She stopped in front of us. i tuned her out when she started saying how sorry she was. That apology was when i knew. i knew i was all alone...

 

     Everything sort of went blank again and we were in the parking lot. Susan Barnes was making a phone call. i slammed the door of her Grand Cherokee and pulled on my seat belt, tucking the strap that goes across your chest behind me. She didn't comment when she finally got into the driver's seat. As we drove, i stared out the window, ignoring her. i only stopped looking at the clouds when she parked the car. We were back at school. She told me that i could go home and get my things together, then meet her back here in an hour and a half. She had some paperwork and such to fill out. i grabbed my Cheers bag and headed over to Kimber. i started the van and drove home, trying to concentrate on the road and keep my mind blank. When i got to the house, i used one duffel bag for clothes and one for everything else i would need. i grabbed the money from the cookie jar, as well as from my savings stashed between the pages of Guitar Highway Rose, which was tucked under my matress. i hesitated but then went into Dawn's room. i got her stash from a small cedar box by her bed, and grabbed a couple other things, including her music box that her grandpa had made for her when she was five. Unlike, her parents, he was the least-judgmental person on the planet. i double-checked that i had everything before stowing the bags in the backseat of my van.

 

     i knew i wasn't going back to the school, though.

Author's Note

This may be unaccurate since i haven't had tome to research lately. if you know for a fact that something is inaccurate, and know what would make it accurate, please enlighten me =).
if you only know that it is inaccurate, but are not aware of what WOULD be accurate, just be patient please. i will research the subject of Child Services and their policies and whatnot when i can...probably during the week i'll be spending at the beach...just 'cuz i love you guys.

Reviews

ah, not a good happening, but it was a happening.
Willow had finally found a content place in society, and now it's come to a screeching halt, as you said in the last line of the chapter before this.

[John Stussy]

Ok patience paid off! You did it again, wrote magnificently. This chapter was really intense, filled me with memories of a situation with similar occurrences but different circumstances. I think it came to life all the more because of that for me personally. I could identify completely. All in all, superb chapter. Now I'm wondering even more what's going to happen. You're good at keeping the readers expectant with cliff hanger endings haha.

[Mr. Revan]

child services purpose: to give a home to children who have lost their parents in whatever manner of ways.

sometimes they give a good home, other times its hell.

personally... if i was in the character's position.... all the money i knew would go into a plane ticket to nicaragua.

join the army.

join a revolution.

die at the age of 19 escorting victims of persecution into another country.

then wake up from that awful nightmare and eat a twinkie.

btw... good write. best written chapter so far