Mission was Taken DNF

Raison D'être

Raison D'être

(n.) a reason for existing

~=~

The phone rings from the teacher's desk, full of yet to be graded papers and a monitor covered in post it notes. I look up and so do the many other students, all hoping for the same thing. It was a bright sunny day, warm and ready for memories full of  ice cream and laughter. Much like the ones I had with my dad before we moved.

I watch her mindlessly walk back up to the front of the room, following the ringing. I look over at Nick, sharing the same class with me this period. He gives me that same naive look, full of hope and innocence.

"This is Mrs. Carpenter speaking..." There's silence throughout the class, most going back to their work; but I kept my eye on the teacher watching her kind face, wrinkled but full of sympathetic smiles, change. She nods and with the nod her smile droops. "Okay, okay. I'll tell them to head down... Oh my god, sorry. That's just so tough on them. Especially Clay. Okay, take care, sorry." Immediately she looks up from the phone, making direct eye contact with me before heading to Nick.

"Please, tell me my parents are picking me up, Mrs. C. I don't know how much more math I can take!" He says dramatically, always winning over the teachers with his goofy but hard working nature. But she sighs, turning back and gesturing to me to come over to his table. I nod and rush over, my mentally neglected mind thinking up the worst.

"I'm so sorry, but you guys are dismissed to the office," she rubs her eyes, but I can't tell if there was a tear or if she was expecting one to fall. Nick stands up from his desk, piling his papers away; completely unorganized. "Um, I don't think they wanted me to say anything, but uh- It isn't anything good." She sighs again, her breath shakier, "Anyway, I don't expect much work from you two. Don't worry about homework. I'll see you two hopefully soon!" She practically pushes us out of the room, leaving us to walk down the middle school's halls alone. I catch her sitting back at her desk, head in her hands, before Nick takes my arm and begins skipping away happily.

"Come on, Clay! Let's go!" He begs, tugging roughly on my freckled arm as he skips along. Smile bright on his face. I feel as if the sun outside has dimmed, like someone has placed a cloud purposefully over it. The way our teacher was acting, everything about it was off. It gave me goosebumps.

I follow him, trying to reenact his innocence, trying to ignore the teacher's mood swing, trying to hope for the best. It had only been six months since the incident. The night that no one dared to speak of. I remember briefly, after two weeks of staying with Nick, the conversation his parents had with me. Their kind words sounded mean as they told me neither of my parents were responding and that they were trying to figure out, legally, what they could do. Soon enough, they were able to foster me, but that still didn't stop the wall from being built in my head, blocking the path of resistance. They tried to get me into therapy, however I declined, saying, ''I'm fine, I promise," as they shook their heads, somemly.

And now, only one hundred-eighty days later, may I have to go through the same unforgiving experience- I don't know yet.

We come up to the office, Nick still beaming, however everyone in the room sitting quietly in their desks looked up, smiles wiped clean off their faces. There's an eerie chill in the room, the halls leading up to the principal's office darken as the old lights flicker.

"Hello boys, you can follow me." one of the office ladies gestures, waving her hand as if she held a heavy brick in it. We nod, following her to the principal's room. Upon entering I want to run and hide, cry and and tear every single string of my life apart. Not only was the principal sitting in his lofty black desk chair, leaning back in stress, but there stood two police men, guns in their holsters as they waited patiently for us to come into the somber room.