All I could hear was crying. It was so shrill. I had tried covering my ears, but the sound was still the same, high pitched shrieking. By now a few kids were glancing at me.
I raised my hand, one still covering my other ear, and the teacher reluctantly called on me as she stopped her lesson.
“What is it, Hannah?” Ms.Terris grumbled.
Short and to the point I said, “Can I use the restroom?”
A soft chuckle, then her reply, “I don’t know, can you?”
In that moment the screaming got louder, and I could hear, almost in the distance, what seemed to be a young child’s voice, crying for it’s mom.
“Well Ms.Schwartz?” The teacher huffed.
“May I use the restroom?” I said, though it felt like I had yelled it.
“You may,”
I jumped from my desk, nearly tripping over my bookbag in the process, and dashed out the door, down the hall to the bathroom.
Now the voice was much clearer, and I knew it must have been a young girl. Her cries had turned to sobs.
I looked all around the bathroom, searching for some sign of another person, of a little girl crying. I found nothing, just empty stalls and rolls of toilet paper.
“Where are you?” I said out loud, thinking maybe the girl could hear me. A sudden pain surged through the back of my head, and I instinctively closed my eyes and groaned.
When I closed my eyes I saw the girl, right in front of me. There was darkness all around, but the girl, in a frilly blue dress, was fully lit. She had long brown hair tied into two braids, resting neatly. She must have been about 8, based on her height compared to mine. I looked around to try and find a light, but saw none.
“Have you seen my mommy?” She mumbled, tears streaming down her face. I couldn't help but feel a touch of sympathy for her, but then questions pop into my mind.
“Who are you? And how can you…” My head was buzzing with too many questions for me to finish my sentence.
She was quick to answer. “I’m Brook,” she said, “do you know my mommy?”. I could hear the fear and urgency in her voice. What was I suppose to do? I had already missed nearly half of math class because of her crying, but I couldn't just ignore her, or else she would cry all day.
With a sigh, I pulled my thoughts together. I told her, “I’m not sure who your mom is or where she is, but we can look for her after school gets out, OK?” Brook looked up at me, her face smeared with tears. She nodded slowly.
I smiled, then opened my eyes again. I was still leaning against the bathroom wall, but in front of me there was a girl washing her hands and staring at me dumbfounded. I didn't realize it before, but I must had been talking out loud when I had closed my eyes to talk to Brook. My face began to flush, prompting me to quickly sneak out the bathroom door.
I raised my hand, one still covering my other ear, and the teacher reluctantly called on me as she stopped her lesson.
“What is it, Hannah?” Ms.Terris grumbled.
Short and to the point I said, “Can I use the restroom?”
A soft chuckle, then her reply, “I don’t know, can you?”
In that moment the screaming got louder, and I could hear, almost in the distance, what seemed to be a young child’s voice, crying for it’s mom.
“Well Ms.Schwartz?” The teacher huffed.
“May I use the restroom?” I said, though it felt like I had yelled it.
“You may,”
I jumped from my desk, nearly tripping over my bookbag in the process, and dashed out the door, down the hall to the bathroom.
Now the voice was much clearer, and I knew it must have been a young girl. Her cries had turned to sobs.
I looked all around the bathroom, searching for some sign of another person, of a little girl crying. I found nothing, just empty stalls and rolls of toilet paper.
“Where are you?” I said out loud, thinking maybe the girl could hear me. A sudden pain surged through the back of my head, and I instinctively closed my eyes and groaned.
When I closed my eyes I saw the girl, right in front of me. There was darkness all around, but the girl, in a frilly blue dress, was fully lit. She had long brown hair tied into two braids, resting neatly. She must have been about 8, based on her height compared to mine. I looked around to try and find a light, but saw none.
“Have you seen my mommy?” She mumbled, tears streaming down her face. I couldn't help but feel a touch of sympathy for her, but then questions pop into my mind.
“Who are you? And how can you…” My head was buzzing with too many questions for me to finish my sentence.
She was quick to answer. “I’m Brook,” she said, “do you know my mommy?”. I could hear the fear and urgency in her voice. What was I suppose to do? I had already missed nearly half of math class because of her crying, but I couldn't just ignore her, or else she would cry all day.
With a sigh, I pulled my thoughts together. I told her, “I’m not sure who your mom is or where she is, but we can look for her after school gets out, OK?” Brook looked up at me, her face smeared with tears. She nodded slowly.
I smiled, then opened my eyes again. I was still leaning against the bathroom wall, but in front of me there was a girl washing her hands and staring at me dumbfounded. I didn't realize it before, but I must had been talking out loud when I had closed my eyes to talk to Brook. My face began to flush, prompting me to quickly sneak out the bathroom door.