Paragomania

[2]

You sat in the office, your backpack resting between your legs. Your head hung low as you stared at your hands folded in your lap. The door opened and in walked Mrs. Sharon Lyle. She crossed the room and slipped into her seat across the desk from you. Her clipboard tapped the desk, and she slipped off her glasses.

"YN," she sighed. "It's good to see you again." You glanced up at her through your hair over your face.

"I wouldn't say this is good," you retorted. She sighed rather defeatedly.

"Yeah, I guess so."

It was four years ago that you watched your mother get shot in the street by a passing car. It was the worst moment of your life, covered in your mother's blood on main street. That's when Mrs. Lyle took you in as a ward of the state. You got sent to your aunt's house a week after it happened.

It had been four years of hell living with your Aunt Justina and your cousins, Luke and Jacob. The state didn't know anything about Luke trafficking drugs through the house. Aunt Justina had told you to keep your mouth shut about it.

'It's what feeds you. If you have an issue with it, then don't eat', she'd say. With so many strangers in and out of the house at the strangest hours, there wasn't much stability. It got worse when Jacob accidentally began ingesting things. When inhalants get into the air vents, there is no avoiding them. If you could've chosen to simply stop breathing, you would've.

It all ended only two nights ago. Another one of Luke's nameless and faceless friends brought something. You had been in your room. You didn't know anything of it, not until there was a soft thud against your door. You tried to push it open to see what had happened, but you were met with resistance as if something was slumped against it. Panicking, you pushed and pushed, banging your fists against the door.

It was eight minutes before someone downstairs heard you screaming. Eight minutes of Jacob laying against your door, frothing at the mouth after someone had stupidly given him something, as if he'd been trying to get to you just before the overdose took over. The human brain can only last 10 minutes without oxygen.

You were seventeen. He was twelve.

"Listen," Sharon sighed. "We have a home set in place for Jacob when he's out of the hospital, but there are no homes currently available to house a seventeen year old. It's just not feasible." You sighed.

"So what am I supposed to do?" Mrs. Lyle shuffled through her papers, searching for a simple solution.

"Well, I see that you've been working for several years and building up some savings. You seem to have enough to live comfortably for a while after you turn 18. But we still have a couple months until your 18th birthday. So, after looking through the records, I found a possible home."

You cocked your head to the side. 'Possible' wasn't too bad.

"It's in northern Minnesota, so we'll be sending you on a plane." You rolled your eyes.

"Northern Minnesota? That's hundreds of miles away. What's up there?" There would be no reason for them to send you up there unless there was something there. They wouldn't waste money on a plane ticket otherwise.

"Oh, um. Your biological father, according to our records." You froze up in your seat.

"Uh, I was told there was no father listed on my birth certificate," you responded. She shrugged.

"No, he was listed on hospital records. We just hadn't considered him an option because of the distance as well as him being indisposed for several years. But now he seems to be in a situation that can support a child of your age." You sighed. "Doesn't really help that it seems that he legally changed his name. That makes people rather difficult to find."