Passed On

Chapter 1

"Willow! Wake up! You can't be late!"

Hearing this, I groggily pushed myself to get up out of bed and carry out my usual morning routine. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and dressed myself. I slipped into one of my favorite loose shirts and a pair of faded jeans. Having this done, I tiredly walked out of my room and went downstairs to the kitchen, where Mrs. Davis was preparing breakfast.

I sat down at the kitchen as she was keeping herself busy, going back and forth from the counter to the stove. The sweet smell of pancakes graced the room, and thankfully it woke me up a bit more. I yawned. "It's fine if I skip a few periods, Mrs. Davis." She turned around and gave a small smile when she saw me. "Good morning, Willow."

"Good morning," I replied. She smiled again and turned back to her work, then giving her belated answer. "Your teachers aren't happy that you're skipping classes, Willow. You're a senior, after all." I sighed. It was becoming a routine to hear this most mornings.

Still tired, my mindset was far from the thought of going to school. I never particularly enjoyed it. I mostly kept everything to myself and ignored everyone else there; talking was pointless and a waste of time. Well, yeah, of course I might sound emo, but I'm really not. It's just how I am, always being plagued with depression. I'm emotionally unstable. I can't control it. I hate it.

My thoughts droned on for what seemed like an hour, until I heard Mrs. Davis say, "Here's breakfast, dear. Your favorite. Strawberry-pancakes with extra whipped cream!" She held a plate of steaming pancakes in front of me. Whipped cream drooped on top and ran down the sides of the pancakes. She set them down on the table. This brought me out of my thoughts. Strawberry pancakes were enough to make anyone snap back to life.

I looked up at her sweet face thoughtfully. "Thanks," I said with a smile. It was hard not to smile at Mrs. Davis. She had the ability to bring about smiles from everyone, or almost everyone at least.

Mrs. Davis was a wonderful guardian. She was always there for me. Most especially when my parents died; her heart seemed to just go out to me. She and Mr. Davis decided to adopt me. At first, I was kind of upset. I couldn't accept them right away. I was so used to my own mother and father...they couldn't be replaced in my mind, and I know deep down it'll always be that way.

Mrs. Davis once told me, "You don't need to call us mother and father if you're uncomfortable with it. Just know that we're here for you, and that we love you."

My train of thought ended there. Snapping out of my mental monologuing, I looked down at my pancakes and found that they were almost half way finished. Huh. I got up from my seat and retrieved my school bag from next to the door and returned to my seat. As I packed my bag with my books, I asked Mrs. Davis, "When is Mr. Davis coming home?"

Mrs. Davis finished cleaning up the counter. She turned to me and then sat down at the table across from me. "I think he has overtime. He's going to come home late." Mr. Davis was a skilled engineer, so he would sometimes take the liberty to work overtime to help out the others.

Mr. Davis is a hard worker, and always has been, even before I was adopted. Despite his hard work, Mrs. Davis and I were worried about his health. He excused it every time she brought it up as a mere temporary sickness. But we weren't convinced. Mr. Davis has problems with his heart. We were both scared that he might one day overwork himself and have a heart attack or faint. Something like that. Mrs.Davis would always tell him to get rest whenever he was tired from working. He didn't want to; he was a good worker and was determined to keep going. He was a good husband and a good father, but it was dangerous for him to push himself too hard.

I nodded. "Will he be home by the time I get back?" Mrs.Davis shook her head. "I'll have to call him and ask, but he might be too busy to pick up. We'll see, dear."

"All right," I said. Mrs.Davis smiled and stood back up. She pushed her chair in, walked over to the front window, and peered outside. I took another bite of my pancakes, which had lost most of their heat. She turned back to me and said, "You better get going. Ethan is here."

Mouth full, I responded, "Hold on, hold on, lemme have another bite of my pancakes." Mrs.Davis closed her eyes and shook her head, smiling. "All right, but don't delay too much longer; you'll be late." I nodded, swallowed, and took another bite. I stood up, grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and walked to the door. Once I finished my bite of pancakes, I said, "Bye, Mrs.Davis!" I said, smiling.

"Bye, Willow! Hurry up now, don't be late!" She hugged me and kissed my forehead. She smiled. I smiled back and hurried out the door. Ethan's car was in front of the house, gleaming under the sunlight that flooded penetrated the clouded sky.

I ran to his car, looking back and waving to Mrs. Davis, who was watching through the front window of the house. She waved back. I turned back to Ethan's car and opened the passenger side door. I slipped into the seat and closed it. I turned to Ethan. He was a good friend of mine, and had been for quite a while.

"Hey," I said with a smile.

Rather than returning the greeting, Ethan sarcastically replied, "And after all these years, the Willow Tree has finally decided to greet me with a smile for once." He grinned immaturely.

"Oh, shut up," I said, punching him in the arm.

He winced. "Owwww...You don't need to be so violent," he said with a pouty face.  I secretly always found that face cute for some reason, I didn't know why.

"I'm not violent, that's just me being annoyed."

Ethan rubbed his arm. "Geez...you could've at least greeted me with a good morning or a pleasant "hello"," he said. He ceased rubbing his arm and shifted the car into drive.

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "...but you're my best friend, so I don't need to give you formal greetings." I looked up at him. I noticed that his hair was dripping. Curious... "And, umm, why is your hair wet?" I said.  As if exactly on cue, a few droplets of water fell from his shiny brown hair.

"You should probably dry it...you could get pneumonia if you're not careful," I said with a concerned expression. Yeah, I might have been jumping to extreme conclusions, but I was just being careful.

"Awwww...you care," he said annoyingly. "But, hey, there's no reason to overreact over the aftermath of a shower. I just ran out of time to dry my hair," he said as he pushed it back. "I had to hurry and pick you up," he said while he unusually turned away.

I rolled my eyes.  "Well, there's nothing wrong with caring..."

Ethan pushed his dripping hair back. "Well, it's nice to know that you do," he said with an amused expression.

"Ugh, just shut up and drive," I said, flicking his forehead. He turned to the wheel, still smiling, and started to drive.

I felt a slight burning rise to my face. I turned away not knowing why. I wasn't sick, was I? Not that I knew of...I awkwardly ran a hand through my (not wet) hair.

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Hope you enjoyed Chapter 1!