Mourning:

I awoke to the bright and shiny sun of California . I squinted my eyes as I closed the blinds, shutting out the welcoming warm rays. In exactly two hours I will be sitting in a seat in coach on an airplane, flying straight to Oklahoma . Where my father would be waiting for me with open arms, and a sad heart.

March 16, 2009 at exactly 6:00pm my mother passed away. The police had told me she was in an accident, but I didn't believe their emotionless, rehearsed voices. They had practiced their facial expressions, they knew what to say, how to look, but you could see it in their eyes. They felt nothing.

My world had fallen apart, crumbling at my feet. My mother was taken from me, and I didn't know why or how.

I was left empty...and broken.

I grab my iPod and my suitcase that was already packed for me. I tuck my tattered red teddy bear that I was given for Valentines Day under my arm.

A single tear falls onto its little head.

A man standing in front of a slick black car smiles at me and hands me a ticket as he opens the door to the backseat, allowing me to slide inside. The seat feels cold. I hear the thud of my luggage being thrown in the trunk; the slam of the top. He walked around and sat in the front seat. The ride to the airport is silent. I look down at the long scar that ran across my wrist and stretched onto my hand, tracing it with my fingers. I couldn't remember anything from last night. I just remembered waking up...with the scar.

I felt it sting as we pulled into the American Airlines parking lot. My door is opened, my suitcase is handed to me, and I'm offered a smile. I turn my back and walk inside, instantly swarmed with hundreds of buzzing people. I walk onto the platform and show the man behind the counter my ticket.

He rips something off, hands it back to me, and smiles saying "Have a nice flight young lady." I try to force the corners of my mouth to turn up, but fail and walk past him. I find my seat and plug in my iPod, allowing Paramore's let the flames begin fill my head. More tears slide down my cheeks, but I wipe them away.

The flight is long. I stood up on woozy legs and try to catch my footing. A pair of hands caught me by my waist and helped me stand.

"Whoa. You okay?" The voice is smooth like silk and very strong.

My scar burned and I winced, pulling away.

"Thanks."

My father, drew, is standing on the platform, easily standing out among the others waiting for their loved ones or family members. He looks at me and smiles.

"Hey Bails" He wraps his arms around me in a bear hug I vaguely remember from my childhood. I felt a kiss at the top of my head. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too dad," I whisper. He kissed my forehead.

"We're going to get through this." I nodded without showing any of my doubt.

Thanks to my father's hard earned career in the army, then coming home to be a police officer, he is fairly rich. I don't completely know how he came into all the money, but I didn't bother asking. We walked into his 3 story red brick house. I looked around in awe.

"The whole 3rd floor is yours. We can go shopping later and decorate it anyway you like." I made a true effort to smile and nodded.

"Okay."

It wasn't hard to feel the awkwardness of air between us. Drew hadn't really spent much time with children; this would be new to him.

The third floor is empty but humungous. I walked into a room with a bed and a lamp. I let my stuff fall from my hands to the ground and lay across the bed, wishing my mother was here with me, pretending that night never happened.

My bear is pressed against my chest and I finally let myself fall apart.

I awake the next morning. My body is stiff; it hurts to move my sore limbs. I lay there, feeling another presence. I look around and see nothing. A small part of me wished it had been my mom, that yesterday was just a nightmare.

But it wasn't. As much as I loathe it, as much as I couldn't stand it, as much as it kills me...it was real. She was gone.

There is a soft knock on the door.

"I'm about to head out to work. We'll go shopping later." I nod, not saying a word. My grip on my pillow and my bear tightened as I sniffled. Drew came closer and smoothed my hair. "Are you okay?" I nod. I felt his lips press lightly on my forehead. "School starts at 9. I understand if you want to take a few days to relax." I didn't. I heard the door close behind him and forced myself to sit up.

Mom wouldn't want me to mope around. She was always so lively and energetic. She would want me to live.

School would be starting in less than an hour.

I got out of bed and found some clothes hanging in my closet. I grabbed a hanger and walked into the bathroom to shower.

There are muffins and bagels and donuts sitting on the island in the elaborate kitchen. I grabbed a donut and looked up when I heard footsteps coming towards me.

"Good morning Miss Bailey, my name is Rodger. Ready for school?" I looked at the 5' 4 man wearing a black and white suit with a chauffeur's hat standing in the doorway. I had a driver?

"Donut?" I held one up that looked like it had jelly in the middle. He smiled.

"Yes please." I placed a few in a napkin, taking another glazed for me, and handed the napkin to Rodger.

"Thank you"

I had a driver to a silver Lexus named Rodger. He pulled up to a building with the words LINCOLN HIGH SCHOOL spelled across the front. Kids were everywhere laughing, listening to music, studying for tests. And I knew, unfortunately, that I would not fit in.