The Day They Died

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The day my parents died started like any other day.

The alarm clock went off at 7:30am and I groggily reached out to stop it, before grabbing my phone to play games on it for another ten minutes. Then, I grudgingly peeled my eyelids open because I had school that day and I needed to leave at 8:40am if I was going to get there on time.

I jumped into the shower and just stood there for a few minutes, letting the water run down me like warm summer rain and allowing the water to wet my hair because I could just blow dry it in a minute. I stared at the water swirl down the hole for a minute, imagining that the bubbles were my worries, being pulled away, out of sight for a time. I turned the water to freezing cold for ten seconds to wake me up, then quickly turned it back to hot to warm myself and climbed out.

I towelled myself dry, added mascara, a little eye liner, lip gloss and some concealer to my face, brushed and blow dried my hair, then put on my outfit: a blue tie-die crop top that hung loosely on my shoulders and had a knot at the bottom and a pair of high waisted skinny jeans. I peeped into my parents' room to say goodbye, but they were both sleeping so I let them be, just giving them a kiss on the forehead each and quietly closing the door.

To this day I regret not waking them up and saying goodbye. This was the last time I would ever see my parents.

Grabbing some toast on my way out of the door, I began the 5 minute walk to the bus stop. I soon arrived and my friend Rebecca greeted me with a hug.

"Hey, babes!" she smiled. "I hhaaattteee Mondays."
"Well, Mondays hate you too," I replied, linking my little finger with hers like we always did. "How is life at the Smiths' household?"
"Ugh. Same old, same old, I suppose. You?"
I bit my lip. "Mum...Mum's found a new job."
"That's great!" Becs grinned, before she saw my expression. "Oh. Not great?"
"It's in America." We lived in London. In England. "And...she's considering taking it."

I had been so worried about my Mum moving. My parents were...difficult. They didn't understand me, really, and they were always arguing about one thing or another. I loved them, though. So much. And they loved each other, too, in a weird sort of way. I know what everyone is thinking; don't be so disrespectful, they're dead. Well, I know they're dead, thanks. I saw the bodies, lying like smashed china dolls smeared with strawberry jam in the hospital. But I don't believe in forgetting all the bad things they did just because they're not here anymore. If I died now, everyone would be like; she was such a great girl and no-one would mention that my grades were too low or that I was a troublemaker. At their funeral, everybody lied to themselves and each other. They told each other that my parents never put a toe out of line and never did anything wrong. They were lying. I hate liars.

Watching the seconds tick closer to lunch, I, along with most people in my class, inched my book closed and put my pen away. The minute hand moved. 12:58. My eyes closed for a second, as if hoping it would make time move faster.

Why had I wanted time to move faster? I should have been savouring the time when I thought my parents were still alive.

12:59. Our maths teacher, Mr Smith, smiled, looking up at the clock. "Okay, then, if you'd like to pack your things away now..." He told us, as our faces lit up. I nudged Rebecca, whisper-shouting, "Finally!!" She nodded and grinned.

Soon enough, the bell jangled and it sounded like a phone eventually ringing after having waited for the whole day for this boy to call.

Me and Becca slid out of our chairs and the room faster than Edward Cullen and power walked down to the canteen, trying to get there before the queue became too big and all the good food was gone. We managed to squeeze through the double doors jus before the avalanche of students had a chance to squash us until we're at the back of the line. Yay! We grabbed some spicy chicken burgers and a cookie each before walking over to our table right at the back of the canteen.

As we sat down, we noticed Toby, Sean and Lexi stuck in the queue. Their eyes found mine and Rebecca's, so we gave them matching evil smiles. For once, we'd made it to the canteen before them. Bless you Mr Smith! I thought.

A while later, as we were leisurely finishing off our chicken burgers, our friends sat down with us, giving us glares.
"Hey, you can't blame us for get getting here before you!" Becca told them patronisingly, "It's not our fault you're so slow."
"Shut up," Toby replied sullenly.
"Aw, is Toby-Boy angwy that he had to wait for his food...?" I cooed in a baby voice, reaching across the table to pinch his cheek. He slapped my hand away playfully and I laughed, so carefree. Little did I know, that was not to last.

When lunch was over, me and Sean, who had a different class to Lexi, Toby and Rebecca, made our way to Art. I loved art. I loved making patterns on different materials in different colours. I wasn't very good at figurative, but abstract I adored. The teacher, Ms Hale, was amazing and fabulous at drawing. So that is why I was in a good mood going to the last lesson of the day.

"Seany, can you pass me the deep blue paint please?" I smiled at my friend. He smiled and rolled his eyes.
"I've got to do my work too, you know. This is, like, the fourth time you've asked me to pass me the paint, can't you just get your own?" I pout at him, giving him the puppy eyes, and he relents. "Fine, fine. Here you go."
"Yay, thanks," I beam at my friend.

Taking the pot paint and pulling the lid off, I dipped my brush (the tiniest one I could find in the classroom) into it and carefully started to add intricate blue swirly patterns to my piece. I was so engrossed in my work that I didn't notice the door swing open and Mrs Hunt, the admin lady, step inside. I didn't see her hand Ms Hale the dreaded note, or see Ms Hale's face grow pale and sad. I didn't hear when she shakily called my name out, before she traipsed over to my table and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Leah," she said gently. I jumped, making a long line of blue all over my work. I sighed.
"Yes, Miss?"
"Could you go with Mrs Hunt, please?"
"Yeah..." I replied, unnerved by her white, sympathetic face. "But...er...why?"
She only gave me a weak little smile as an answer, and gestured for me to stand up. I slowly did so, aware of the whole class watching me, curious as to what was going on. Sean gave me a confused, worried look as I followed Mrs Hunt out of the door.

She led me into the deserted staff room, and I frowned as she told me I had better sit down.
"W...what's going on?" I asked uneasily, trying to ignore the foreboding feel in the air.
She gave me a long, sympathetic look before answering me, "Leah, there's been an accident."
My stomach was a knot of terror.
"There was a car crash, Leah," she told me gently, warily, as if I was a frightened animal who could lash out at any moment. "Your parents...your parents are dead."

It took me a while for her words to sink in. My face was frozen in a confused frown. I didn't understand. I couldn't understand.
"B...but d...d...dead? They c...can't be. I s...saw them this morning. They're not dead. They're not dead. What? No. No." I was shaking my head wildly, side to side. Mrs Hunt took a sharp breath in like she was trying not to cry and held her arm out, trying to steady me. I hadn't even realised I had stood up. I flinched away from her hand as though it was on fire. "NO!!" I screamed, tears falling like salty rain from my face. "NO!!!"
"Leah..."
I was still shaking my head. They couldn't be dead. Dead. They couldn't be. My vision blurred as the blood rushed to my head.
"Leah!" I heard Mrs Hunt's voice again, but this time it was alarmed, frightened. I felt myself falling, falling, falling. And then nothing at all.


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