The Things That Make Us

Chapter 1

Hannah

There's a sign on the front door of the house that I've lived in for three years.

Eviction notice
You have 2 weeks from June 2nd to be out. Any questions or comments can be directed to me at 555-9873.
⁃ Don Walters

Don fucking Walters. He is - was - our landlord. He owns the whole row of small, worn down houses in this neighborhood. Mostly he leaves us alone, but when he comes around, he always causes shit. Like today.

I just got home from school, my last week of high school, and find this sign on the door. My mom's car isn't in the driveway like it usually is at this time of day, but I don't worry about it. I don't worry about much - even the damn eviction notice - until I'm shoving open the sticky, creaky front door and my stomach hallows out. Bile rises in my throat.

It's very obvious she's gone.

Not just like gone for the day. Gone, gone.

The couch is still there but the rest of the room is empty. The kitchen is practically gutted. The garbage can is overflowing. I was just here this morning, six hours ago. How did she do this in such a short time?    When I check the two bedrooms, I'm not even surprised by what I find. Empty rooms, besides the beds. All of her clothes and all of mine, gone. The bed's are stripped down to the mattresses. It's like she forgot I existed when she packed up and took off, sometime after I left for school this morning.

She's not coming back. I can feel it.

I'm not even eighteen, though my birthday is a month away.

I'm on my own. Though even when my mom was around, she really wasn't much of parent. She'd take off for weekends, or even longer, over the last few years. Once she figured I could take care of myself, she didn't do much taking care of me.

She always managed to have wine and beer in the house and she paid our cell phone bills, but we rarely had groceries. I had no money for anything extra. I ate a lot of meals at friends' houses over the last year.

I walk to the fridge and open it, though I'm not expecting much. There's a carton of milk and some dressings, some rotten lettuce and a really horrible smell. I don't have money. I didn't apply to college because there was no way I could ever pay for it. I was going to get a job this summer and try to help my mom out.

Now she's gone.

It was just her and I - and her string of bad boyfriends- for the last few years. My dad was never around, after about my fifth birthday. We don't really have any other family, not that she'd ever told me about, anyway. I know there's some family on my dad's side, in Florida. That's all I know.

I have three days of school left.

I need to finish up and go to my graduation and then I can go. Get out of here. Go anywhere I want. I have gotten used to Chapel Hill, but I don't love it any more than any of the other places I've lived.

But I don't know where to go. I don't know what I want to do after high school. I don't know who I want to be. But I have to figure this out, and fast. I wasn't expecting to have to decide any of this today, but things changed.

My stomach is still twisted up as I grab my phone and call the number on the sign, without really thinking. Don's number. He's kind of a gross, older man who has hit on me more than once, but he's overall harmless. I think. I need some answers, so I'm hoping he picks up.

"Y'ello? Don speaking!"

I swallow hard. "Hi, Don. This is Hannah Kingston.. um.. Joanie's daughter-"