The Evolution of a Drowning Butterfly

Chapter Three

I won't bore you with the gory details of my miserable school day, consisting of sitting in the back of all my classes alone, sitting in P.E. alone, and sitting at lunch, you guessed it; alone.

I endured the bus ride home, and numbly entered my house. School always took such a toll on me. The clock read 4:00 p.m. Three hours until my mother got home. I had three hours to myself, then I would be forced to sit through a long talk about the way I spoke to her yesterday. Or I could leave, spend the night with some friends. Only problem was, I had none.

I walked into the twins' room to check on them, and my eyes wandered, searching for their bright faces, but there were none to be found. I scrambled all throughout the different rooms in the house, calling their names as I went.

Finally, I grabbed my phone, ready to call 911.

The lock screen read "Message from 'Mom'." With nervous and shaky hands, I made my way to the voicemail box.

Hey, honey. I know you're mad at me, but I need you to listen to this. The twins missed their bus, and I need you to walk them home. It's only a ten minute walk. Thank you, sweetheart. We will talk when I get home.

Jordan and Claire's school let out an hour before mine did, and now it was 4:30, which meant they had been waiting for an hour and a half.

Why didn't my mother think? She forced two 5 year olds to stand out in the freezing cold for an hour and a half. I prayed they weren't by themselves.

I grabbed my cellphone and jacket, and darted out the door. I sprinted to the school, stopping only for traffic.

At the front of Campton Kindergarten, I spotted the twins immediately with their chattering teeth and blue lips. Then I peered to their left, and standing there was their teacher, a scowl scrunching her otherwise pretty face.

"It is extremely irresponsible to leave your brother and sister out in cold weather, waiting for an hour plus. I hope you feel bad for what you have done and I hope this ensures that you will never do such a thing again," she directed me, her voice high and whiny.

I wanted to say, "You could've taken them inside!" or "It's not my fault that they missed their bus, and my mother doesn't think," but I didn't.

I simply said, "Yes, Ma'am," and moved on.

The three of us linked hands, and Claire sang "Follow the Yellow Brick Road" all the way home.