Chapter 2
Lilla
Today is first-grade picture day. This morning, I begged my mommy to help me pick out clothes and to brush my hair.
“Mommy, will you please help make me pretty for school pictures today?” I don’t know why my mommy doesn’t answer.
Maybe she can’t hear me? I’m standing right in front of her.
Maybe I didn’t use my big-girl words; she’s always telling me to speak clearly, and I know I did.
Mommy always says what she always does, “I’m too tired.
You figure it out.” Turning around, I slowly walk back to my room and cross my fingers really hard, hoping she changes her mind.
She didn’t. I tried my bestest, but it was no use; my arms couldn’t reach the tangles.
My daddy and my mommy work a lot. They leave me home alone while they work, and sometimes it’s really scary.
But I do as mommy says, and eventually, I figure things out.
So today I figured it out. I chose a blue ruffle shirt.
I thought it made my blue eyes look pretty, and tan pants.
I tried my best to brush my hair, but sometimes the back is hard to reach because of the ‘rat's nest,’ as mommy would call it.
Walking into the classroom, I make my way to my seat, right behind Ava, the prettiest girl in school.
Her daddy has lots of money, mine does too, but I think her daddy loves her.
She taps me on the shoulder, “Your hair looks awful back there. Did you sleep outside?” She giggles with her three best friends, and they all look at me.
I quickly turn back to face the teacher, focusing on the chalkboard, trying to forget the memories that make me sad, but it doesn’t work.
One time at school, Ava pushed me down onto the rocks during recess, but I didn’t cry. I really, really wanted to, but mommy says I need to be a big girl, so I held it in.
When I got home to tell my mommy, she wasn’t there. She was gone for two whole days and nights. I thought maybe she had gone to the North Pole to help Santa make my toys. Sometimes when she leaves, she tells me that. That makes me happy.
Today at school, no one pushed me or told me I was stinky, ‘cause guess why? I started taking showers all by myself, but they’re cold ‘cause my mommy always told me never to touch the hot tap, and I want to make my mommy happy.
After school, the bus ride is the same as always.
Not fun. I hate riding the stupid bus. The entire ride home, the kids ask what’s living in my hair; they threw small balls of paper at me and asked if I need a soap bar to wash, because I can’t outrun being the smelly kid.
Only this time, a girl with a nice bow and cool pink fingernails sat by me.
“Don't let them get to you. My momma says, ‘Some kids can be mean, but that doesn’t mean you have to take it.’” The lovely girl with the pink fingernails stood up, folded her fists, and yelled at them.
“Leave my friend alone, or I’ll give you nucklesamiches!
” Then she slid down into the seat and smiled.
I like her. “My name is Haley. I’ll be your friend. ”
“Okay, I’m Lilla. Here’s my stop. Thanks for being my first ever friend.”
Getting off the bus, all the kids cheer, “The smelly one is gone, yay!” Yay, is right, only I didn’t want to leave my new friend with the pretty bow.
She was nice. She made me feel all warm inside, and when I stepped off the bus, the feeling went away.
It made me sad because all I want is to always feel like that.
I think that was a happy feeling. Like on my teacher, Mrs. Hannah’s door, where all the silly faces are, this feeling is the big smiley face, with red cheeks from smiling tooooo much.
Getting home, the key is under the Happy Home rug.
What is a happy home? Do I really live in one?
The guy who took mommy’s money at the store must have been lying, ‘cause it doesn’t seem happy.
Every day before I go inside, I jump on it, say ‘happy home’ three times, and pretend it's the magic carpet, hoping the magic from the rug will work its way inside and make my mommy and daddy smile and laugh with me.
Today, something big happened. I made a friend, and when I walked in the door, there was no one to tell. Being home alone used to scare me, but I don’t cry ‘cause I’m not scared anymore; I only cry ‘cause I’m alone.