The rough pitter-patter of rain against the tin roof caused me to stir in my sleep, but I struggled to fight it. I yearned to remain under the warmth of my thick quilt, wandering aimlessly through the dream world. But, alas, I knew reality would ease its way in and pull me out. As hard as I tried to ignore it, my eyes flew open and all memory of dreams faded away. I sighed heavily and pressed my pillow hard against my eyes, blocking out the dim sunlight that snuck in through the creases in the blinds. Slowly, I pushed away my brief shelter from the light and let my eyes adjust. I stumbled to the bathroom, rinsed my face and brushed my teeth before swiftly walking downstairs to the kitchen.

I was surprised to find it empty, void of any evidence that my mother had even been there fifteen minutes prior. Most mornings I would find her sitting at the quaint glass table, pressed up against the far wall, sipping a quick cup of coffee before she rushed off to work. My mother didn't hold the greatest job title in the world, but the money was sufficient enough to pay the bills and to feed us. She worked as a zookeeper at the local zoo and had been in that same position for as far back as I could remember. My father isn't even worth mentioning. After I turned six, he became absent in my life, beyond the occasional postcard from wherever he happened to be at the time. During a mid-life crisis, he decided that “living his life to the fullest” was more important than his ten-year marriage, not to mention his six-year-old daughter. Now he spent his time traveling the world with his much younger and wealthy girlfriend, Melissa. I hated to even think of her, though I had never even met her.

As I thought over my mother's unexpected absence, I plucked a porcelain blue bowl from the cupboard and poured a generous amount of cereal and milk into it before sitting at the vacant table. My eyes were instantly drawn to the white, perfectly folded note that lay against the transparent surface. Sprawled across the paper in my mom's unmistakable handwriting was my name: Alexis.

I wasn't sure why, but something, deep down, told me that this couldn't be good. Something was wrong, and this letter was the only way I would find out just what it was. I swallowed hard as I lifted the crisp paper and unfolded it. Panic welled up inside as I read the first sentence.

'Dear Alexis, September 8

This isn't easy for me to say, and it won't be easy for you to hear either.'

Part of me didn't want to continue reading, but my eyes betrayed me as they went along down the paper.

'The house has been put in your name, and I have left an envelope on the counter beside the coffee pot where you will find enough money to support yourself for at least the next three months. I will send you more as needed. Do you remember Mark? The man who offered me the job in Denver? I know how hard it was on you when you heard that we might have to move, and I decided that this might be easier. I will be making twice as much there as I was here, and won't have any trouble paying for you to stay home. Mark and I are moving in together.'

My forehead creased as the last words sunk in. Mom had a boyfriend, and I didn't even know about it...

'You are not alone, Alexis. You have your friends, and your uncle Paul is still in town if you need someone. I didn't want you to sacrifice your school life and your friends just so that I could live a better life, with a better job, and a better man than your father ever was. I won't be that far away if you ever need me.

Forgive me.

Love,

Mom'

My head was spinning as I set the letter down. I accidentally knocked over my cereal bowl as I scrambled to run back upstairs. It didn't matter anymore – my appetite had vanished. I pushed open my mother's bedroom door, and my jaw dropped in shock. While her bed remained intact, covered with frilly pillows and bright-colored blankets, her dresser was empty of most of her belongings. The oak jewelry box that held all the beautiful necklaces and charms I had been so envious of was no longer there. I went through her drawers. Each one was empty. How had she left so quietly, without me knowing?

I sat on the edge of her plush mattress, my head in my hands as I tried to understand what was happening. Mom and I were never incredibly close as she spent so much time at work – and I guess hanging out with Mark–but I would have thought she would have had the decency to sit down with me and discuss the situation before abandoning me. Abandoning me…just like dad.

Through the creases of my fingers, I could see the red digits on one of the few remaining items in her room. On top of the dresser sat her alarm clock, and I could distinctly see the shapes of each number: 9:45. I immediately jumped up from the bed and ran to my room. I was late for school! I grabbed my book bag, pulled on my shoes, snatched my car keys from the kitchen counter and rushed through the front door.

I grimaced when I noticed the windows on my silver Alero were rolled down, and the rain had undoubtedly found its way into the car. Remorsefully, I eyed the empty spot where my mother's van would have been parked, then opened the driver-side door to my car. I was hopeful that school would be a big enough distraction to keep my mind off of the haunting thought of being abandoned by my mother. The overwhelming urge to stay home, retreat back to my bed, and spend the day crying the hours away was almost too tempting. School wasn't a great importance to me, but I hoped that seeing my friends might help me pull through.

Shaking away the unwelcome thoughts, I discovered that my suspicions were unfortunately right—the seats were drenched. After pulling off my gray fleece hoodie, I dabbed the moisture off of the steering wheel, then draped the clothing across the seat. Once situated, I closed the door and quickly rolled up the windows and started the ignition. Some classical music piece came streaming through the speakers, and I smiled. I found it relaxing, but I wouldn't admit that to any of my friends at school.