Did You Call Me?

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I was in my bedroom, finishing my homework, when I saw my mom come into my room.

"Do you want lasagna for dinner, Erica?" she asked. "Or something simple, like grilled cheese sandwiches and chips?"

I smiled. "Grilled cheese sounds good."

Even though I ate a lot of grilled cheese sandwiches and macaroni and cheese when I was five or six, there was nothing wrong with eating it twelve years later. It was still delicious, despite its simplicity.

"Okay, hon, I'll be in the kitchen, if you need me."

"Okay," I responded quietly.

Then she exited my room silently.



A few minutes later, I heard my mom call my name.



I headed downstairs, shocked when my mother wrapped her arms around me, and she began to drag me towards the front door. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She appeared upset and frightened. She then led me outside the house, onto the lawn.

Sobbing, she said, "It's okay, sweetie, I heard it, too."

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