Downhill

Chapter 4

    A few months had passed since that fateful day, and things just kept getting worse. In February, they "temporarily" cancelled school everyday so the high schoolers could work and make as much money as possible for their families. Things were difficult--I had a full eight hour shift everyday at an ice cream place, even though I'm only seventeen. It was also the only job I could find, and I was lucky to have it.

    I'd lost almost all contact with my friends. Katie, Willow, all my other friends like Maya, Christine, Alexander, and even Brooke. I missed them. I had called Brooke once, but it was quick. 

    I had been watching the news as much as I could, looking for any sign of help coming. Nothing. Everything in the country, it was all a disaster. The TV reporter had lost his cheery tone that I still remember so clearly. 

    It seemed like I never saw anyone in my family very much at all anymore. Every one of us was always working. Even Rosanna had found a job, because child labor laws had been lifted in this dire time. It was a low-paying job working as a sort of maid for a family who had somehow still retained a lot of its money, but it was the only one she could get at the age of twelve. 

    No matter how much we worked, I could tell it wasn't doing much. In the rare times I did see my parents, they tried to reassure us and tell us this hell would be over soon. Rosie and I both knew it wasn't true, and I could tell Mom and Dad did too. Nevertheless, they continued to do it. The truth was, we would probably lose our house soon. 

    One night, as I was lying awake in bed as I often did lately (no matter how tired I was from work, I could hardly get to sleep anymore), I thought for a long time. I remembered the way things used to be. I remembered Rosie practicing her clarinet for her school band and me covering my ears with a pillow. I remembered the whole family going out to eat and telling jokes to each other. I even remembered when I was a little kid and I would go on all sorts of (mostly) innocent adventures. I missed that. I missed every bit of that life, even the homework and the chores and the days where things just didn't go right. 

    I realized that my family just couldn't go on like this, so I made up my mind. I got up in the middle of the night and packed my backpack without turning the light on. I added some food, a couple changes of clothes, some supplies, and two photographs--one of my family and one of my friends. Then I got dressed. I put on a blue shirt and some jeans, and a gray pull over hoodie over that. I slid brown combat boots onto my feet and started to leave.

    I hesitated at my bedroom door, then went back in and threw my old journal into the bag. Maybe it would be good to document what happens to me, just in case...

    I wrote a note and stuck it on the fridge, exactly where the note from Mom had been months ago. It said:

"I'm leaving in search of better work. I don't know how far I'll have to go, and I don't know when I'll be back. Don't try to go looking for me. I love you all, Amelia"

    Just as I was about to open the front door and leave, I turned and looked around. This very well may be the last time I ever got to see the old house. I had lived here my whole life, and I had all my childhood memories here. Now all that was gone. I took a deep breath, and with it I took in the whole image of the house, so I could remember it. 

    I turned away and opened the door. As I took a step out, I stopped. I heard footsteps from inside.