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Last May, I was walking home from school, happy for the 110% I'd scored on my essay. The sunlight shone on my face, and I closed my eyes, relishing the early start on a West Coast summer. As my house got closer and closer, I saw a sleek black car pulled up in the drive.
I stopped short, bumping into a lamppost. The car had me suspicious, and I leaned against the metal pole, wondering what it could be. My watch flickered yellow, and I looked down. I'd set it to light up at ten past three.
My parents would be worried if I didn't get home. Rubbing my throbbing head, I jogged closer to home. I put my hand to my pocket for my keys, when I turned back around, noticing that the black car wasn't the only car on the driveway. A grey van was there too, a white SUV parked on the curb. I dropped the keys back into my pocket. I pushed the doorbell over and over, in sort of a rhythm, drumming my hands on the door to a beat.
The front door swung open.
"Hey honey! We were wondering where you were!" My dad scolded lightly. I stepped in, tossing my backpack into my room on my way down the hall. I stopped at the study, and saw my mom standing in front of a pile of papers along with a middle-aged man in a suit the color of my mother's van.
"Mom?"
My Mother and the older man looked up. "Hi, Allie!" I smiled.
After some polite conversation with the man, I left for my room. I contemplated the situation thoughtfully. From his demeanor, clothing, and car, I assumed he was some sort of important official. I confirmed that when I heard him say, "Sign this please, Ma'am." Next door.
I hurried outside, eager to take advantage of the bright day. Soon, I was on the patio, basking in the sunlight, holding a notebook.
I went inside to grab a snack, when I heard my parents arguing harshly in a language I didn't understand. (Both of them can speak multiple languages; some of which I can barely understand). I didn't know what they were saying, but by now, I was used to the yelling, and over-formality at occasions, and arguments.
I stopped my Mom when I saw her turn and come down to the kitchen.
"What's up with Mr. Official?" I cornered her. My mom flailed, her eyes widening.
"He's not another realtor, is he?" I asked, genuinely curious-we'd been considering moving for a month or so now.
"N-yeah! Exactly! You're my smart sweetheart. Speaking of which, how was that essay you worke-"
"Then what is he?" I asked, regrettably sharply.
"I told you, a-"
"Mom, please?"
"Lawyer."
"Huh?"
"He's a lawyer."
She'd called me her smart sweetheart plenty of times before, and that's what I was going to live up ot.
"A divorce lawyer." I stated. I didn't ask it; I said it.
"Sweetie, don't tell-"
"Really? Mom, you suck at lying."
"Sorry, but-it's just, we haven't worked it out yet. Your father and I are supposed to tell you kids later."
"I'm not supposed to know?"
"Its not like that, sweetheart, its just, you and your little brother-"She stopped when someone called her name. "I should get to them." She knelt down like she used to when I was little, and not almost her height. "Don't worry, Allie, okay? Everything's gonna be fine...." She trailed off.
She sounded like she was trying to make HERSELF feel better. I put a hand on her shoulder, and helped her up with the other. Ignoring the pounding in my heart, I gave her a reassuring smile.
She slowly walked away, and left me standing there.
I collapsed onto the dining table, slow tears streaming down my face. I didn't know how I felt. Sure, I was expecting this, but there were so many other things going on in all of our lives...I couldn't imagine how it would be. 'Better to get this all over with instead of when they give my brother and me the TALK.' I thought to myself.
I didn't know what would happen. I looked at my hands, cut and weathered. Recently, I'd given to poking my pencils, scraping myself with paper clips and butter knives.
I guess that's where my story ends. Please, I don't know what to do. Its been a year. I want a happy ending for this story.
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