I Promise

Kelly is pregnant. Maybe? Isn't that what she just told me? I don't know how to react, so I just sit there, ice cream in hand, and act surprised. Well, maybe act isn't the best word for it. I mean, I am surprised.

"Aren't you excited?" Kelly asked me on the car ride home.

"For what?" I ask. If I could take back those words I would. I would scoop them up before they seeped into her ears, her brain, her body. Her heart. She gave me a blank stare. Afraid we were going to run off the road by how she was looking at me, I laughed. A fake one, but good enough to trick her.

"I was just kidding Mom!" I speak.

Mom.

Mom.

Mom?

The word feels weird on my tongue. I sweep it over my mouth. That's new.

When we get home, I immediately get out when Mom looks down at her stomach, scared. She wasn't there with me for the rest of the ride. I could tell. I know that she wasn't. Maybe she was. Maybe she was on a beach. Would she be would her best friend, who also brought a billion other friends? Would she be in a glass apartment?

But, why?

It had burned?

I walk up to the door. Face it. Hold up my arm, but then let it swing back down. This isn't my home...

Instead, I turn around and walk out to a wooden swing set. I know it. I feel the rusted metal chains. The wooden plank seat. I run my hand down it and get a splinter. I quickly pluck it out and sit down. I feel comfortable here. Wanted.

Mo- Kelly was still in the car. Tears boiled up in her eyes. But she didn't let them fall. I had hurt her. But I had been hurt worse.

I had been hurt.

I stop myself from crying. I can't think about it. I let my mind wander all other good memories. The taste of ice cream. My mom. I miss my mom. I want her back. My dad. I miss my dad. I want him back. I need them.

Later I go out into the kitchen and tell Kelly goodnight. I hug her but not like I would have if it were my mother.

"Goodnight," she says.

"Um, I- I uh am sorry," I say. I am.

"It's okay, I get it,"

"Okay, good night,"

I walk down the narrow hallway into my room. Shut off the light and get in bed. I never fall asleep fast enough. I can't. This isn't my house. I don't belong here.

The next morning, I don't eat. I don't feel like it. Kelly is still in bed at 9, so I go for a walk around the block. After 20 minutes of walking around, trying to find something to do, I go and start taking pictures. My mom was a photographer, and she taught me how to take pictures without having to have a pretty background.

Later, I go to a coffee shop that is two blocks down from our house. I get a drink and sit down at a small table for two. Then, I see a girl with straight brown hair coming in. I look down at my drink. She gets a drink and comes over to my table.

"Can I sit with you?" She asks. She looks no younger than me, 17 and has a really pretty smile. I bet she has lots of friends.

"Sure!" I say as I pull my drink in front of me. She sits down and immediately asks me what my favorite color is. I am confused and look at her. She still has her crooked, innocent smile on her face.

"Um, green, how about you?" I say. I have no choice but to smile at her as I say that. She smiles even brighter than before when she answers.

"I like purple," she says. I am not surprised, but not in a bad way either. We continued to talk, and by the end of our conversation, I knew what her favorite food was, her favorite animal, her full name, her favorite things to do, her birthday, and almost everything I could know about her family. I told her that I was adopted by Kelly, how my mom is not a bad person, and my dad too, and how I won't be here for a long while because my mom is getting me back.

"Well, I have to go now, but do you want to come here tomorrow?" She smiles as she shifts in her chair, ready to stand up and walk out of the door.

"Um, sure! Same time?" I ask.

"Same time," she replies. She smiles, waves, and walks out the door. I look down at my phone and see that it is noon, Kelly has called me 2 times and texted me 4 times. My phone was silenced. I turn the silence off and wait for it to ring again.

Ring ring ring!!! Ring ring ring!!!

I click the answer button, and Kelly starts talking very quickly. Are you okay? Where are you? When did you leave? Where did you go? Has anyone tried talking to you? Once I calm her down and tell her that I'm 17 and will make it (being sarcastic), I tell her that I am at the coffee shop and I made friends with a girl named Belle, who is 16 and is getting her driver's license in one month. I don't know why I told her that last part. Maybe to tell her that she is mature?

I finish the phone call and say that I am walking back home now. Before I leave though, I get a plain black coffee with sugar and a little bit of creamer, just how Kelly likes it. I walk it back home and give it to her. She is holding a homemade coffee that she might have just made because of how hot it is, but she throws it out and takes the one I got her.

She sits down on the kitchen island, and I can tell that she is relieved. As she sips on her cup of coffee, she asks me if I had gotten the girl's number. I said no, thinking about how we should exchange numbers so that we can talk when we aren't at a coffee shop.

Soon, we sit there in silence and then I go back to my room. I wish I could go back to my mom. I wish I could hug her and say that everything is okay. That everything will be okay.

I look through a journal that Kelly had gotten me as a welcome home present. When I walked through the door she had held open a basket that held a journal, a blanket, and a stuffed animal. I smiled, took the basket, and took out the journal. She showed me to my room and got right to work writing.

I opened the journal and read what I had written in it so far.

May 29th, 2009

My name is Hannah Engel, I am age 17, and I have just been adopted by a woman named Kelly Cromwell. I have been adopted because my mother, Ruth Engel has attempted self-harm and is being hospitalized. I will not be adopted forever. My mother will be out of the hospital in a few weeks, and I will go back home. This room that I am in is supposed to be my room, but it is very plain. It has baby blue walls and a wooden floor that is very cold. I am skipping the rest of the school year, because what is the point in going for a month and then going to a whole different state? Sadly, I did not bring anything to decorate my room, because I would have thought that it would be better than this. Wait, was she preparing for a baby boy? Was she even expecting me??? The only thing I brought was a couple photos of me and my mother and a stamp collection that we had together. We only have to fill out a few more pages. I am not going to collect stamps while I'm here because we made a rule about how we are never going to fill it out without each other. Anyways, I am going to fix my bed because it looks like someone just threw the blankets on and didn't even bother putting the pillows beneath the blankets instead of over them. Bye, I will try to write later.

-Hannah Engel

I look at my bed. It looks nice, probably because I made it. I look at the walls. I had painted them a nice hue of green. I look at what is in my room. Instead of it just being my bed, there is also a small side table next to my bed, a full body mirror, a vanity that Kelly picked out herself, and a school desk where I had a brand-new computer and pens and pencils in a little clear spinney thingy that is divided into six sections.

I think about my mom, where she might be right now, where Kelly wishes she were right now if it weren't for me.

I'll come back

I promise.