We're Not So Different

Rotten Fruit=Rotten Day

Y/N POV   

"Okay, everyone! That's was a great first rehearsal!" our director Mr. Manuel announced to the onslaught of middle schoolers in the auditorium. Black Soot Middle School was doing a production of Beauty and the Beast Jr. in two months, and we were hoping that for the first in forever we would be on schedule.

   "I want all of you to go home, practice, and get a night's sleep. Good night everyone!" he continued. everyone in the auditorium went to grab their stuff and went outside to be picked up.

   "Yo, Burr! Are you taking me home?" my best friend, (f/n), asked. He/she insisted on calling me Burr (like Aaron Burr, from Hamilton) because of my fascination with him. We're complete Hamilton trash. Our moms were as good as friends as we were, so you carpooled practically everywhere.

   "No, I don't think so," I said, "There's your mom right there." I pointed to a blue mini-van that a license plate which read "Awesmom". (f/n) ran over and left.

   Everyone left one by one. My mom (who normally takes me home) wasn't there yet, but I was used to it. She got off work at the same time as rehearsal ended. I heard my stomach rumbled. 

   "Boy, I'm hungry," I thought.

   "You have an apple in our lunch box," a voice in my head reminded me. It was Obsidian (I call her Ob for short). She was a spirit that had lived inside me for as long as I can remember. She could be a little infuriating at time, but in a big sister sort of way.

   "Oh way... thanks," I said. I could sense Ob rolling her eyes.

   I took out the apple... and it was rotten to the core. Literally right down to it's core. I winced in disgust and tossed it in the trash can nearby.

   "Uh-oh. That can't be good," Ob said. There was this weird thing where bad things would happen to us if we found rotten fruit. I don't know who. Don't ask.

   Just as she said this, a black car rolled into the parking lot. A man with suit walked out, and I could tell he was here for me.

   "Are you y/n l/n?" he asked when he reached me.

   "Yes..." I responded warily. I never trusted men in black suits.

   "I'm terribly sorry to tell you this, but your parents have perished in fire that destroyed your entire home," I told me with a despondent look on his face.

   I froze. I try to speak, and couldn't. Even Ob was silent. My parents were the only family I had. Not just metaphorically, literally the family living left. 

   "My name is Mr. Stoe," the man continued, "I am in charge of finding you a guardian. Luckily for you, I just got off the phone with a distant cousin of yours in Ireland. He said that he would gladly take you in."

   "I...I have other family," I miraculously got out, "in... in Ireland?"

   "Yes. I will take you there personally tomorrow morning," Mr. Stoe said.

   "What is... what is his name?" I asked.

   The answer I got back was never the answer I would have dreamed of.

   "Sean McLaughlin."