Chapter 1 Changes

As the bell rang, slicing through the hallway like a knife, you could hear the students rushing from their classrooms, yelling, shouting, and laughing at each other. There were thumps, whoops, and hollers as the kids shoved and jostled their way to the lunch hall.

But for Mo, the bell didn’t signal the end of class; it signalled the halfway point through mid-term finals. Taking a deep breath and focusing my attention back on my papers, a harsh knock draws my attention away again to the principal walking through the door. His face looked like he sucked on a bunch of super sour warheads, you know, the face pucker you get when the tart is so strong that it makes you rethink all your life choices.

“Yes, Principal,” I hear my teacher mumble.

“Mo needs to gather her things and come to my office.”

I can tell by the twisted look on both their faces that something was wrong. Something was really wrong.

“Mo, please gather your things and follow the principal,” my teacher calls from the front of the classroom. I nod my head and continue to sit for a few seconds as I watch the principal lean in and start whispering to the teacher. At the loud gasp from the teacher, I feel my body take over and gather my stuff and carelessly shove everything into my bag. Pushing to my feet, I walk on wooden legs to the front of the classroom and look at the teacher.

“Can I make up the rest of the test later?” I ask, but for some reason, I already know the answer, and it isn’t anything good.

“Su….sure,” the teacher mumbles.

Walking through the halls of the school, I don’t try to make conversation; I don’t ask what’s wrong, and the principal doesn’t offer. The walk to the principal’s office feels never-ending, but as we finally stop outside his room, I listen as he takes a deep breath and then opens the door. As I follow him in, I see the guidance counsellor and the police standing in the principal's office, all staring at me.

“Mo,” the guidance counsellor says as she holds her clipboard like a lifeline. Her voice is meant to be soft, maybe caring, but it sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

“We regret to inform you that this morning there was an accident,” she says, “Unfortunately, your mother has passed away.”

I don’t cry; I don’t scream, I don’t even blink. The news that my mother is gone, that she is not coming back, wipes every thought from my mind. Like someone flicked a switch, and everything inside my mind just went completely blank. The words “Your mother has died” flash inside my brain like neon lights that feel overly bright in the utter darkness.

“Mo, did you hear what I said?” The guidance counsellor asks.

“Mm,” I mumble as I continue to try to gather my thoughts.

“Mo, it says here that you have a little brother?” One of the police officers asks.

“Oh! Oh god, does Milo know?” I grit out. It was as if forming the words in a parched mouth took extreme effort to verbalize.

“No, not yet,” The police officer responds

“Can I go get him?”

“Mo, as you are underage and you have a little brother, we need to talk about your guardianship and that of your brother. Do you have other family? Family that could take you in?” The guidance counsellor asks.

“Yes,” I lied. There was no one; Mom didn’t know who my dad was, and if she did, she never said. As far as I know, she didn’t have any friends or family, and indeed, not anyone who would take in two orphans.

“Where? Do you need us to contact them for you?” The guidance counsellor asks

“No, I have an aunt in Mesa. Once I get Milo from school, I will contact her and make arrangements.” I know what is going to happen if there isn’t anyone to take us in; we will go into the system, and there is a chance that I will lose Milo as well. They won’t want a teenager and a little kid.

“Do you know the address in Mesa for your aunt? We will need to get that on file,” the skinny police officer says.

“I will ask and then give you the information,” I reply.

Jumping to my feet, I grab my bag and give them my phone number. It won’t matter; Milo and I won’t be sticking around past tonight. We need to leave. Mom always said that if anything happens, we need to gather what we can and leave, staying low, so that is what we are going to do.

Racing to the school and getting Milo, I inform the office that our mother has died, and we will be taking a leave of absence and possibly changing schools as we go to live with our uncle out of state. While I was gathering Milo from his class, the office was getting our transcripts.

“Mo, what happened?” Milo asks as we get buckled into the car.

“Mom is dead. When we get home, we need to pack, and we leave tonight.”

“Ok, Mo,” Milo responds, crying.

“It’s ok, buddy, we will survive this.”

“Where are we going?” Milo asks

“Pick somewhere, but don’t choose Mesa,” I say as I navigate the streets to the house.

Packing up our essentials wasn’t much of a task. I packed the rest of the food and got the money stash that mom always told us to use in case of emergencies, and then we waited. We kept the house dark and whispered to make sure that no one thought we were home. Hell, we parked the car on the other side of the forest and hiked through to make sure people didn’t see us. As we waited for nightfall, there were knocks on the door, but we didn’t answer.

“We will be ok, Milo, we will figure this out. The main thing is, we can’t tell anyone that we don’t have a parent. We need to remain hidden,” I whisper to a still crying Milo. I feel Milo nod his head on my shoulder.