Forlot: The Mom Who Lives Next Door - Book Twelve

Chapter Sixteen

I was fast asleep in my bed. My body was sprawled out on the mattress, my arms and legs dangling over the sides. I was extremely exhausted after I came back home from my own mother, who happened to be my neighbor now. The Mom Who Lives Next Door.

I made it to my bed in the nick of time because as soon as I collapsed on the bed, lying on my stomach, I fell straight to sleep.

Before I went to sleep, I thought how lovely it would be to sleep in. I had planned on resting in bed for at least a half an hour in the morning before getting out of the cozy zone and tackling the day ahead.

I believe that is why the weekend was created. Not just to take a break, but to sleep in a couple of times.

Alas, my glorious plan was ruined before it even got started.

I soon woke up from my deep slumber and felt a part of my body aching. I came to a realization where the pain was coming from and why it was making me suffer.

It was my stomach. My stomach was making these loud, growling noises, and I clutched it. I could feel the vibrations of the sounds against my palms. It was hungry. Very hungry. And it probably would not have been as hungry as it was if I had eaten dinner last night.

I decided to skip my relaxation in bed and tossed the covers off of me. I scooted to the edge of my bed, letting my legs dangle over, and was about to get up, when my phone rang.

You may be asking, "Jackson, I thought that you did not have a cellphone. Did you lie to us readers?"

First of all, no. I did not lie to you. Second of all, unlike my friend Milo, I do not own a cellphone. However, I do have an old phone. A telephone. You know. Those ones that are hooked up and you can not take them anywhere with you?

I was not in the very least interested in buying my very own phone. I do not know why. I was just not crazy about them as most teenagers are. Alas, my parents had different ideas and bought me an old, red telephone. They did this for two reasons. One, old is less expensive than new. And two, because they wanted me to keep in contact with them and friends. Or friend in this case.

I do not mind having a phone in my room. The only problem is that it sometimes rings in the middle of the night, as if people bothering you during the day was not bad enough.

I had asked my parents if there was a way to silence it and make another noise instead, like a beep. You know. Like you would do with a cellphone. Neither Mom nor Dad could not stop the annoying noises because according to them, it was "special." To put it in context, it was a phone that almost nobody uses anymore and could not be silent.

Of course, that was bad for me because how was I supposed to catch up on my beauty rest?

I picked up my phone and answered it. "Hello?" I looked down at what I was wearing and realized that I had on the same clothes as yesterday and that they were wrinkly. I guessed that I had not changed into sleepwear before going to bed.

"Dude," I heard the voice on the other end.

"Milo," I said his name, recognizing his distinctive voice. "What is up?"

"That is what I would like to know. Why are you not here?"

"Why am I not...where?"

"You know where. We have been coming here for years."

I shrugged, still not knowing what he was talking about. "Seriously, Milo. I do not know what you mean."

"School, Jackson."

My eyes widened, and I had to repeat that word. "School?"

"Yes. School. You know? The place that we are supposed to be on the weekdays?"

I facepalmed, my palm making contact with my forehead. "I must have forgotten. I was so tired last night..."

"You need to come now. School will be in session in less than fifteen minutes."

I leaped out of bed and checked my clock that was hanging on the wall. He was right. There was no time to waste.

I said goodbye to him, hung up, and put the phone back. I had decided to leave on the clothes that I had worn yesterday and smoothed out each and every wrinkle. I grabbed my backpack and checked in my mirror before rushing downstairs and into the kitchen.

Dad and Kira were in the kitchen. Amy was not in there, and that was because she was in her crib and sleeping. I knew that because it was too early to awaken the baby girl.

Dad was cooking something that honestly smelled delicious, and Kira was setting the table.

Kira...

Kira noticed me and smiled. "Morning, Jackson. How did you—"

"Sorry. I have to get to school. Bye!"

I grabbed an apple out of the fruit basket and hurried out the front door.

I dashed down the sidewalk and decided to go by the row of stores because passing them would save me some time.

I passed a few stores, and then skidded to a halt.

There was a police car. No. Two police cars in front of my mom's store. Yellow tape was blocking the front door.

At first, I was confused - and scared. Why were there cops at Mom's antique shop? Had she gotten into some trouble with the law?

My question was answered when I noticed something from the corner of my eye. I peered through the window...

...and saw a body. Lying on the floor inside the shop. The worst part was that I knew this person.

It was Mom's worker. Stacy.