No One's Home

It's hard to imagine a life without your parents isn't it? Imagine what it would be like to walk home and not have the familiar smell of freshly baked cookies invade your nostrils as you turn into the drive of your home. To not have the cars parked side by side, showing that both your parents are back from work and waiting for you to enter the door, with your mum standing making dinner in the kitchen with a warm and welcoming smile. To not make it inside to drop your bag at the bottom of the staircase only for your dad to tell you to take it upstairs to your room yet you ignore him anyway as you don't have nearly enough energy to make the 12 stair trip. Well that's what my life had been, day in and day out since we had made the move 50 miles across the country for a fresh start. It was no secret that things had been tough for us back there but at the same time it was. People weren't aloud to know what happened and the truth was clouded over with lies and misconceptions, most of which I had no choice but to let them believe as even I couldn't tell all the lies apart from reality. But that's not the point. Here the sun shone brightly and the sky was always the most beautiful azure blue. At the waters edge, waves crashed elegantly against the hot grainy sand, sea salt spraying up my legs, dots of seafoam catching on my shorts. I was happy here. At least I was suppose to be, and for the longest time I was. We all were.

Then that day came. The dreaded day that you can't imagine. The one you read about in stories and see on the 10 O'clock news, yet you don't possibly think it could ever happen to you. Then one day it does. One day it did and without any kind of warning. I walked home from school just like any other day and just like any other the day the sun was high in the sky, my phones weather app vibrating to tell me it had reached 20 degrees. I put my headphones on and put my phone back in my pocket only for it to vibrate a fraction of a second after doing so. I took it back out my pocket to see a message light up my screen. It was from my sister. " Won't be in 'till late, tell mum when shes in. She hasn't answered my text." I replied with "K" as I was still in a mood with her for losing my key that she borrowed the other day. Luckily my parents will be in by the time I get home. They both worked in town taking early shifts whenever they could so I was fortunate enough to have them there when I got in as I never really liked being alone.

I turned the corner before my street and every garden I passed, there was families out either sunbathing or gardening or doing anything really as an excuse to enjoy the beautiful day. As I approached my street rather than smelling sweet home baking I was hit with the smell of our neighbours burning rubbish in their garden again and as I reached the bottom of the garden I noticed only mums car was parked in the driveway. I walked up to the door and pulled on the handle, expecting it to swing open for me but to my surprise it didn't. I knocked on the door and when there was no answer I walked round to the back door, which as I found was also locked. "Hello!?" There was no answer. I called my mum but it went straight to her answering machine. I called the house phone and when nobody picked up I went back to the front and sat on the doorstep. I waited. And waited. And waited. It turned 5pm and still nobody was home. I called my dad but to no avail. One of the neighbours walked past and squinted at me, the sun in her eyes. "Have you seen my parents?" I asked. She shook her head. "Not since this morning. They both left early in your mums car." I nodded. "Okay, thank you." I walked round the house again, checking for open windows that I could climb through but I heard a car pull into my driveway and the slam of doors as two people got out. Mum and dad. Finally they were home. I ran round to the front and stopped in my tracks. There was a police car and two policewomen in my drive. Not my parents. One of them walked up to me cautiously. "Is this the Lancaster household?"

I gulped and nodded, not sure what to think. Thoughts raced through my mind. Had my sister done something? Was it me!? Had I done something? But I didn't have time to think.

"Are you the eldest daughter of Michael and Bethany?" I stared at the policewomen, reading commiseration in her eyes. There was something written across her face, a look that was unmistakable, the color drained from her cheeks. "Youngest" I corrected her. She knelt down in front of me and the other lady stood by her side.
"I'm so sorry em... Julie...but your parents have been in an accident. Head on collision with another vehicle. The ambulances got to the scene as fast as they could but your mum and dad were both in critical conditions. I'm so sorry to bring you this news but, they haven't made it."

And that's all I remember. The rest is just a blank space in my mind, a black void that can't be filled. And now here I am, 15 years old and living in a children's home with a bunch of other children with dark holes in their memory too. And i'm alone. My sister moved in with a friend but I was too young so they've put me in here and she's barely even allowed to visit. The guidelines about visitors are strict here. And as it goes for other family members? I didn't have any and I had never needed any until now. All I needed was my mum, dad and sister but instead all i've got left is another rubbish day out with a group of other kids who are alone. Apparently this is my new family. "One big happy family" my social worker says. More like one big house full of kids who don't have anywhere else, who cry themselves to sleep every night and argue and scream over what's shown on the tv. Where anything nice you own from your past life has to be hidden away and if you're not careful you'll trip on half a discarded crayon lying on the stairs or sit on some spilt orange juice at the breakfast table. So you might call that a family. You may look at us and say at least you have somewhere but when you live it it's a completely different story. They will never be my real family. My real family is just a memory. A fresh wound on the surface of my mind every single second I live. A punch in the chest every breath I take. A thud in my heart for each second i'm alive and they don't get to be. And that's all they get to be. A memory.