EdanaAmaris

It was growing late. About 8:30. She didn't want to walk home at night so she got a cab. When Iris finally returned home she didn't know what to do. She wasn't tired, wasn't hungry. She didn't want to clean, but since it needed to be done, she decided to do that. She started with the living room. Putting books and magazines away, folding blankets over the back of the couch and bringing dirty dishes out to the kitchen. Once Iris went into the kitchen she discovered what was making that horrible smell. It was the lasagne Iris had made a week before for dinner. She'd kept it in the fridge so it wouldn't go bad but she assumed that her mom got

She walked into the warm diner. It smelled like cheeseburgers and fries. She took an empty booth in the back and leaned against the window. A pretty, young waitress came over. Iris ordered a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. Three minutes later it arrived. "Anything else i can get you?" the waitress asked. "A bit of sanity would be nice." replied Iris, not meaning to say that out loud. "What" "Nothing. Nevermind. No thanks, I'm fine." "Alrighty" she said cheerfully and walked away. Iris sipped her hot cocoa and played with a sugar packet. From her window she could see the main road and an auto repair shop. Two men were sitting

Despite it being the middle of spring, it was very cold. Iris stuffed her hands in her coat pockets to keep them warm. She walked slowly dont her road, taking time to observe her neighborhood. It was quiet except for the sound of distant laughing and talking from families eating dinner or watching a bit of TV before bed. She tried to think of the last time her family had done that but she couldn't remember that far back. Iris turned the corner onto the main road and walked west. She could see the sunset clearly up ahead. The sun seemed to be calling to her, beckoning her to join it. As Iris walked, the sky got darker, and darker her mood be

Iris stood by the couch. It seemed taller than her. The whole room seemed huge, like it could swallow her in a second. She watched the stairs. She could hear movement from the floor above. She was also pretty sure that she heard yelling and fighting. "You can't leave," Iris's mother screamed "How am I supposed to raise Iris by myself? You're the one with the job!" "Whos fault is it that you don't have a job? I do all the work around here. All you do is watch Iris and how hard is that?! She's three years old for godsakes. Give her a stuffed animal and she's happy. Plus, it's not my fault you got pregnant. How stupid was it to stop taking the

Iris walked into her semi-dark house. By the time she got home it felt like it was almost six.  She watched the red and blue lights from the police car dance on the walls as it drove away. She looked at her mother's favorite couch directly to her left. It was old, ugly and uncomfortable. Iris couldn't figure out how anyone liked it, but through beer goggles anything can be worth admiration. The house seemed empty without her mother passed out on the couch with a bottle of alcohol still in her hand. As Iris walked into the kitchen, a horrible stench bit her nose. It was almost like a mix of skunk, rotten eggs, sour milk and a baby's diaper.

Iris just stood there and tried to process all of what she'd been told. In her mind she went over a list of all the family members she had. Both of her parents were only children, so aunts, uncles and cousins were out of the question. Her mother's parents had both died, and she knew nothing about her father or his parents. Iris assumed that they'd try to contact her father or his parents. "Maybe they'll get lucky and find them." she thought. Iris wasn't sure she'd like to know her father now or not. It was a difficult topic for her to think about because she remembered so little of him. But, who would want to remeber a man who left a mother t

The closerto the door they got, the father away it looked. It was just like those scary movies. When someone is running towards a door to escape something, but the faster they run and the closer they get the more the door shrinks into nothing. Iris didn't want to go any closer. She didn't want to see her mother. She didn't want to know. But, despite her unspoken protests, her feet continued moving towards the door. They sqeaked with each step on the tile floor. Now the door of room 217 was a mere ten feet away. Now five feet. Now two. Iris grabbed on to the door knob but she didn't turn it. She just looked at it. One question burned in her

They pulled into the hospital parking lot and found a parking spot about 200 feet from the entrance. To Iris, it made no sense to have handicapped parking spaces at a hospital, or anywhere for that matter. One would think that if the person driving was 'handicapped', they're not, since they're driving and all? The irony of life. Iris and Officer Meadly got out of the car. Standing next to the officer, Iris guessed that he was about 5'11 and around 25 years old. He was good looking but possessed too much of a fatherly look for her to have any interest. As they were walking up to the sliding double doors, Iris was both scared and hopeful thin

Like a robot, she did exactly as directed. In her head, Iris was picturing a huge, bloody mess. The car smashed, her mother nearly road kill. She was trying not to think of what a terrible daughter she's been, but the thoughts were inescapable. Instead of yelling at her mother for always being drunk, she should've been trying to help her overcome her alcoholism. She should have cleaned more, cooked more, and gotten a job. She should've been there for her mother when she thought about how Iris's dad left them when she was only 3. She opened her locker, reached in and grabbed a handful of books. She stuffed them into her bag, not even bothering

"Iris McDevon. We need Iris McDevon in the office. Iris McDevon. Thank you." blared the intercom in Iris's 7th period English class. Mr. Degger said, "Iris, you may go. Bring your stuff with you though." Then stood a pretty 15 year old girl with silky, long, golden blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. A tall, slim figure grabbed her bag and exited the classroom. Behind her classmates were whispering. Iris never got into trouble. Her first thoughts as she walked down the high school hallway, walls covered in posters advertising clubs and sports, was that the principal had something to award her with for her straight A average. Or perhaps they