"Willa, get down here or you are going to be late!" Called Mom from the kitchen.

"Coming Mom!" I called back from my bedroom.

I walk downstairs to see, as usual, Mom in her pale blue nursing scrubs and her pearl white tennis shoes. She is hastily packing the twins' school lunches, when all of the sudden Noah and Mason (The Twins) come hurdling into the kitchen shouting and laughing to each other.

"Boys, knock it off and get ready for school." Mom said to them in a stern voice.

"Yes, Mom." Both boys replied in unison.

Meanwhile, I am toasting some bread and packing my bookbag for school, when I look at my watch and realize that I desperately need to leave.

"Mom, I must go." I said quickly.

"Alright, sweetie." Mom replied.

I never really liked when Mom would use pet names with me, but she said my father called me "sweetie" when I was little. My dad disappeared from our lives when I was around four years old. I don't remember him much. Neither do Noah and Mason as they were only one-year old. Now Mom provides for us on a nurses' salary working at a hospital. She tries to pick up as many of shifts as she can but the more shifts she picks up the more I must help with the boys.

I always wonder what my father looks and acts like. I never bring the topic with Mom because she would always say, "Willa, it doesn't matter."

As I pull myself back into reality I can hear Mom yelling at the boys. Again.

"Okay, bye, Mom." I said as I kissed her on the cheek and walked out the door.

Before I go, I call back into the house to ask Mom a question, "Mom, do you need me to take the boys to school today?"

She hollers back to me,

"No, sweetie get to school."

I always offer to take the twins to school, but she always denies me.

As I get into the car I prepare myself for a normal day at school. I have the same schedule everyday nothing more, and nothing less.

While I am driving to school I let my thoughts drift to my childhood. Twelve years ago, I was four. Twelve years ago, I had a father who loved me. Twelve years-ago my life was great.

Then, I had two new baby twin brothers and two loving parents. Now I am with a stressed-out Mom, two crazy twelve-year-old brothers and a dad who is never coming back to the family he left.

My thoughts were cut off when I realized I am at my school. As I pull into the parking lot I see kids from my class, upper classmen, and even lower classmen. I shut off the car and grab my bookbag, then, I start for the school building. Some would expect for me to meet up with my friends and start giggling, talking about boys but, I prefer to keep to myself.

I get to my locker and put my books from the previous day away and gather my books for first period. I rummage through my locker reorganizing it as I do every day when a crumpled-up paper fell to the ground. The paper was not any ordinary paper; it wasn't even a piece of paper, but instead it was a crumpled-up note. I picked up the note from the ground and read it. It stated: 'Meet me at lock #234, 10 AM Sharp.'

I was immediately confused because ten o'clock is my free study hall. How would the mystery person who wrote this know when I had a free period? Then, I realized that locker number 234 is in the basement of the school. The locker is so distant from the others because it was a landscape from the original construction of the building. Now that they had put renovations to the school, some lockers specifically number 234, are in the basement.

The janitor walked passed me, staring me down for a few seconds, his jet-black hair smoothed-back and his gray jumpsuit pressed to the point. He gave me a gruff look while I just smiled back to him.

Then, I hear the ringing of the school bell and know I must get to class. I am quite distracted by the note replaying in my head during my first period English class, my second period world history class and my third period math class. When I finally hear the bell ring for fourth period to start I realize that I nearly forgot about the very mysterious note from earlier this morning.

I head for the doors to the basement of the school. As I open them the door creaks and I quickly shut it. I grab the flash light off the shelf of the staircase. I then flick it on and look ahead of me. The staircase leading to the bottom was covered in dust and old cob-webs. It almost seems as if I am in a movie. A horrifying movie. I slowly make my way down the steps with a creak from every movement I make. I start to wonder if this is the right choice. It never occurred to me that the note could have been meant for someone else.

I finally make it to the bottom of the staircase with a sigh of relief. I waited a few minutes before finally speaking, "Hello! Is anyone here?" I questioned into the darkness. I sighed and turned to leave before a gruff voice cut through the silence.

"Willa."

I stopped in my ascend up the stairs and gripped the banister tightly. A feeling of alarm trembled through me. I took a deep breath and turned to face the mysterious suitor.

A broom first surprised me. The darkness shadowed the face of what I presume was an older man. While facing the man, I slowly backed my way up the stairs.

"Please," I heard a whispered intake of breath, "don't leave yet."

"Who are you? What do you want?" I asked fiercely.

"Willa, it's me..." The mysterious man said.

I scrunched up my nose in bewilderment and quirked an eyebrow. An unknown defiance sparked up in me, surprising myself. I went along with it, though, and cocked my hip. A throaty chuckle caused my façade to diminish slightly. "You're just how I was in high school."

"What are you talking about?" I asked

"She never told you?"

"What are you taking about?" I repeated

"Willa, don't you know who I am?" He asked

This very perplexing old man now came into the ray of light coming from a crack in the door. As I stared at him for various seconds I soon then realize that he was the same gruff, jet-black smoothed haired janitor from this morning; only it looks as if he got a clean shave and he put a smile on his face. Remembering what he last asked me, I knew, I must answer, as confused as I may be.

"Yes, you are the janitor from this morning."

"No, Willa," I stood there with a blank face of bewilderment as he spoke again, " Well, yes." He said in reply to my face.

Utterly confused I tried to put the parts together. The man then cut my thoughts off knowing I didn't understand.

"Willa, do you really not remember?" He asked completely shocked

"No, I am sorry," I replied "I have no clue what you are trying to make out."

"Willa, I know that this is going to be a lot to take in, but I am your father," he finally said, "the one who you thought left you and your brothers. The one who may seem evil to you on the out-side, but you may think of curious on the inside."

I slowly took in what he was saying before bleating out my thoughts

"You are evil! You are the one who left my brother and me! Yes, I have always been curious of you!"

"Willa --" he said in a somber voice.

"No! Don't! How am I supposed to believe you?!" I shouted to him tears streaming down my face.

He started again, "When you were four, your brothers, Noah and Mason, were one, and we were all playing outside when I said that I had to go inside to the house to gather our lunch, "he continued as I was now crying uncontrollably as the best but worse memory was now being relived, retold. This memory is one I always try to forget and normally, I succeed. "As I went inside," he started again, " I got a call from my doctor, he was calling to give me the results of tests I had taken on me. When he told me, I was positive for a life ending cancer. I was so, scared, Willa, so I packed up my things and left. I left because I was afraid I would hurt the ones I truly loved; afraid of you and your mother seeing me die. That's why I left."

I was now weeping with all the might I have. I now knew, he had proven the facts from the story he told about the day he walked into the house and then never came back out. The only thought still occurring in my head was: "How is he still alive?" The only thing left that I can do is speak my thoughts,

"How are you still alive?" I asked

"Well," he started, "I had planned the rest of my life on being dead in six months-time. So, I went to the safe house I had purchased when your mom and I, were first married. Seven months later I get a call from my doctor, saying he had read my test results wrong. Trust me I wanted to go back, I wanted to come back to you, Willa, I have missed you so much. I was going to come home when I got the news," He paused.

"And?" I questioned him

"I was humiliated with the choices I made." He replied

Humiliated. I played it in my head. He was humiliated for not telling his family he was sick.

"Willa, I was so scared, I didn't know what to do."

"So, you left three toddlers with one adult, alone, for twelve years and now you decide to come back?"

"I'm so, so, sorry, Willa" he apologized

"We'll take this one step at a time." I finally replied, as I hesitantly moved to embrace him in my arms.