"Goodbye, dad!" I shouted over my shoulder as I skipped past my father at the kitchen island.
He was typing away on his laptop, probably last minute notes before his next meeting. I swear, he had one every morning. He worked for some big law corporation in the city.
He shouted after me as I passed by, "Antio sas, my love!"
That was goodbye in Greek. From my young age he'd always made an effort to speak in Greek around me. He told me it was because of my mother. She was what he called a foreign exchange teacher, basically she was teaching students here in New Jersey for a school year when they met. My dad says she taught studies of a bunch of ancient civilizations, but Greece was always her favorite. From what I know, she could speak the language pretty well, and so my father picked up on a little bit of it. I've never met her. My dad says she had to go away for a little on a once in a life time teaching opportunity right after I was born. How convenient, am i right? As you'd expect, she never came back. I've obviously always resented her for that. She abandoned me and she abandoned my dad.
I often find myself imagining her with a whole new life on the other side of the planet somewhere with a different daughter. Imagining was pretty hard though, considering I had no idea what she looked like. My dad had no pictures. My only clues were my own features. I have decently tan skin and tons of freckles like my dad, I've also been told before that I have his ears which i've always thought was a strange comment. My dad has very dark hair but I have blonde. Sometimes it looked strawberry blonde, if the light hit it right. Because of that i'd always imagined my mom as blonde, specifically Jennifer Aniston for whatever reason, except I'd picture her with gray eyes like my own. My whole life, my father has commented on how rare they are and how I'm so lucky. That was a pretty good hint to me that my mother must've had a similar pair.
I was especially ecstatic while leaving for school today because it was the last day before summer break. As someone who struggles with ADHD and dyslexia, school is no easy task.
I bounded down the steps of our front porch and onto the driveway pavement. Our family driver was waiting beside the open backseat door for me. Mr. Tigel, or Tiggy, as I called him, is the driver my father hired to tote me around places so he doesn't have to. Don't get me wrong, my father is in no way neglectful. He just never has time to do things with me because of his job. I don't mind it too much, after all, I've never known any different. Plus, Tiggy and I have become close over the years.
"Good morning, Miss Prince." he said to me as I approached the car.
"Morning, Tiggy." I replied, shrugging off my backpack for him to take.
I slouched down into the seat and waited for Tiggy to climb in the driver's seat.
It was 6:30 A.M so it was still pitch black outside other than the street lamps and house lights. I stared out the window at the darkness passing by, the silhouettes of the trees blurred as we travelled.
My body suddenly lurched forwards, I slammed my forehead against the passenger seat in front of me. I almost blacked out from the impact, but I managed to keep my eyes open. My body felt numb from fear, but I could feel a stinging, burning pain on my forehead and one of my shoulders.
Through my fuzzy vision, I could make out the shattered windshield in front of me. Tiggy was motionless in the driver's seat. Blood was seeping out of a large gash in the side of his head. I tried to maneuver towards him from the backseat, but with one movement, I sliced my palm on a glass shard. The pain across my whole body registered all at once. I felt tears begin to stream down my face just before I blacked out completely.
I don't know how long I was out for, but it couldn't have been very long. Paramedics had still yet to arrive. When my eyes finally opened, I was able to make out an outline of a face. A boy's face standing over me.
