First Day Of High School

It was the first day of the rest of my life my grown up life. My stomach was in groaning for food, and I couldn’t seem to do anything with my hair. I had all my pens, papers, notebooks and other miscellaneous items stuffed into my spanking new blue book bag. My mother was down stairs on the patio drinking her morning mug of coffee, yelling at me to hurry up. I gave my brand new Nike’s a quick whitening, checked to make sure I had everything; money for lunch, all my books, paper, pens, and a calculator. My mother continued to yell at me from downstairs throughout the morning.
“ You’re going to miss the bus!”
The bus! I couldn’t believe my ears. I couldn’t show up to high school on my first day by riding the bus. I was nervous, so I asked my mother to drive me to school. Somehow knowing my mother was going to be there part of the way made it a little bit easier for me to go. It was nice to have a close relative there to set me off on the grown-up part of my life. My childhood was over, and I was almost an adult. Not to mention the fact that I hated the bus and used any excuse to get out of riding it.
Well my mother ended up giving in, and drove me t

In the end, my mom was just on crutches for a couple months. She broke her right leg and fractured her knee cap. Besides that, and some scratches and bruises on the face, she was fine. I did eventually end up going to see her in the hospital that night, and I was still able to tell her all about my first day. My first day of high school was definitely a important turning point in my life. After that day, I had to take care of my mother a lot more, and I also seemed to look upon everything in a different prospective; In a much more responsible way. After all, I was almost an

He said it so bluntly that it took a while to register in my mind. I asked him to repeat himself, and he did.

“Mom’s been in an accident. She was hit head on by a handicap bus this morning, on her way back from dropping you off at school.”

As I walked up the driveway, fumbling through my book bag to find my house keys, I noticed that my mother’s car was not parked in the driveway. I figured that she had just got it detailed and put it in the garage. My mother was in love with her champagne colored, fully loaded town car. She had it detailed every weekend. I thought it was strange that she had it detailed on a Wednesday, but she could have easily driven down a dirt road, or possibly spilled her coffee on the way home from dropping me off. I opened the door, kicked off my shoes, threw down my book bag and screamed out for my mother. There was no answer. I yelled upstairs, there was still no answer. I thought she was probably working in her rose garden. I ran outside onto the patio. There was no sign of her. I even checked the garage, but there was no sign of her or her car there either. I began to worry what may of happened to her. I thought for sure my mother would find the tim