Changes // Andrew Bazzi

prologue

I've never been a fan of change. I remember when I moved from middle school into my freshman year, I had a panic attack at least twice a day up until the second month of school. I'm not good at adjusting to new things and I don't enjoy ruining my routine. Call me superstitious, but whenever I did anything out of the ordinary, something always went wrong. Because of this, I had always been sure to stick to routine. Never make any major changes in my life. Who knows what would happen if I did? I could try a new make up and find out I'm allergic to an ingredient used and break out in hives all over. I could eat something I've never tried before and end up with food poisoning. I don't like change simply because I don't enjoy taking risks. I prefer to stay on the safe side, and change always flirts with risk.

It was a cool October day in Michigan. The air was crisp, the leaves were turning red and orange. A person, such as I, that happened to find herself walking down the road would smell the distinct scent of bonfires and apples in the air. Autumn was the best time of year. Not because I was born during the season, or because my mother had very cleverly named me after her favorite time of year, but because of the tranquility that came with the cool breeze and the warm colors. Unlike most teenage girls, I have always preferred wearing my favorite jeans and a large sweatshirt outside by a bonfire than lay out by the water in the sweltering heat.

Because the colors had begun to change and the weather had started to cool, I had decided to walk home from school today rather than hitching a ride from my best friend, Kirstin. I breathed in the crisp air as I approached the sidewalk that led up to my front door and pushed it open. The overwhelming scent of my mother's homemade donuts and apple cider flooded my senses as I made my way into the kitchen to see her facing away from me, with her blue and white plaid apron tied around her pajamas.

"Mom? Did you have the day off today?" I pondered aloud. She spun around quickly, seeming shocked at the sound of my voice.

"Oh, Autumn! I didn't hear you come in, you startled me," She gasped, confirming my thoughts. She grabbed a plate that was stacked with the donuts and a full glass of cider and set them on the bar in front of me. I sat down in the bar stool and skeptically watched her.

"Is everything okay? You're not acting like...you."

My mother was a hard-working woman. The gray hairs sprouting in between the bunches of brunette proved that. Her face showed her age, and although she always seemed to sport dark circles under her eyes, and wrinkles deeper than my brother's thoughts, she was a beautiful woman. Today, however, the gleam she normally held in her eyes was dimmed and she seemed much more worn than normal. "Sweetie, something's come up," She spoke worriedly.

My mouth dropped along with the pastry that was once in my hand. The sentences that came tumbling out of her mouth became a blur that I couldn't comprehend other than the wretched two words.

Public School.