Facing the Music

        March, 11, 2003     

        “Alison Walker to the principal’s office,” called a feminine voice over the PA of my 3rd grade class. I'm not the kind of girl taht gets called to the office. I stood up slowly, sliding my chair out of my desk and looking around the room for any sign of moral support. I wonder why I was getting called. Maybe I’m leaving early. With that happy thought, I began walking towards the door, getting a reassuring look from Harry, my best friend, as I pushed the door open.

            I had never been to the principal’s office before. I don’t think anybody in our class had, unless you count Ricky which was the class clown and head troublemaker. He had been to her office countless times.

             The air inside was chilly and smelled faintly of somebody’s fast food lunch which they had yet to throw away in the trash can. An administrator guided me to her office, worried look on her face as I entered and she hurried off, shutting the door quietly yet quickly.

            The principal was a tall and slim American with silky blonde hair and blue eyes. She was looked rather stunning in her custom-made pencil skirts and blouses. She also had the same look of worry as the jumpy administrator, who was now tending to some paperwork. I took a seat in one of her grey chairs. 

“Alison, I know you’re a strong girl. You can do anything if you set your mind to it and your mother and father will be very proud of you.”

What did she mean by will be? What happened to them? Are they okay? Where are they?

She continued, probably due to the look of confusion that covered my features. “Alison, your mother and father are currently not well. There was a fire in your house. You'll be living in another house with some very nice people until they get better alright? Now you're uncle is going to pick you up and take yo to your new house. Do you want to say goodbye to any friends? They can bring you your bag."

I nodded and quietly mumbled ‘Harry Styles’. The principal smiled weakly as she stood up to go talk to my uncle and make sure he is who he says he is and matter in that such category.

The door opened to reveal a small boy, not much than 2 inches taller than me. His curly hair shielded his green eyes and his dimples were hidden by a frown. Harry. He rushed towards me, worrying etched on his face. He wiped the tears that I previously hadn’t known were there.

“What’s wrong Ali?” he asked. Should I tell him? Luckily, my mouth answered before my brain. 

“I'm going to stay with some people for a while." I mumbled. 

“Oh, why? Shouldn't you be staying at home with your parents and what about-" Harry droned on and on. 

I smacked him lightly across his forearm. "Hug me, you loser." He chuckled and leaned in to give me a hug. I placed my head in the crook of his neck and felt his strands of curly hair tickling me. When we pulled away, he smiled.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow in class." He shouted as he went through the swinging doors. 

 And, just like that, he was gone. His small, eight year old body carried him all the way back to class, not knowing that this was possibly the last time he would see me.