19. Special Class

It was weird being at school when 90% of students are away in London. It was so quiet and the hallways were empty except us 10% who had those special classes. Let me tell you, I felt like I’m in kindergarten with my little sister. Or instead of her. Do you want to know what we did? We were drawing pumpkins and we went out to collect dropped leaves from the ground and then sticked them onto the paper and made ‘Autumnal collages’. I mean, I’m fifteen. And the youngest kid in our class was thirteen. I’m not sure it’s a good choice of work for us. Thanks God we’ve got shorter days at school, otherwise I would get crazy. Maybe that’s what they want. They wanna make us crazy. So they don’t have anyone left home, when the whole school is going on a trip. Anyways, I went to my Mom’s work after school and checked emails – twelve emails from Lisa! Twelve! She’s so excited for London and she said everyone is so friendly! Even Poppy offered her tissue at the toilet and talked to her like a normal human.

‘It’s so suspicious!’ she said. But Thomas is really not into her! Every time she tries to talk to him, he’s always like: Okay, great Pop and walks aways.

It’s good, I guess, but still. It’s only first day. I replied to her about my terrible special classes and about some kids there. I only spoke to one girl, Hannah, and then there’s one boy from France on exchange program. I forgot his name, but I think he’s called Jean or Jacques or something like that. He plays violin, I think Lisa would like him. I wanted to ask Mom about my father but as I was thinking about it I decided not to do it while she’s working. Or maybe it’s just my excuse.
So after dinner, when Summer was watching Frozen and me and Mom were doing the dishes, I finally encourages myself to ask her.

‘Mom? I have a question and I’m asking you to answer me, please.’

‘Anything you want honey,’ she smiled at me.

‘Hold on to that thought,’ okay, inhale, exhale, ‘I wanna ask you about my father.’ I did it! I did it!

‘I’m not answering this question, Izzy.’

‘I am sorry Mom, but you promised. You told me I can tell you anything. You want me to trust you with anything but how, when you’re not being honest. Seriously, Mom.’

‘I told you I’m not answering this question. End of discussion.’

‘But Mom!’

‘No!’ So I marched to the street and slammed the door behind me. Honestly I have no idea where to go, when all the people I know are outside the town.

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