Have you ever come home from school, only to discover a surprise awaiting your arrival? Most of the time, they can be shown as good ones. 

But this one was definitely not a part of that category.

I had come home from school one day, like I usually did, with the Autumn breeze stinging my cheeks and the black bow in my hair flapping gracefully. My blue and white striped tie flew in a horrendous fashion, with my black blazer and skirt doing just the same. Luckily, I had been wearing tights that afternoon, so I didn’t have to suffer from the cold too much. However, just when I had reached home, I noticed a peculiar sighting that made me feel uneasy; an ambulance was parked on the pavement at the front of our house, and four policemen were surrounding the front door. Angela was standing outside, wrapped up in her favourite blanket - a fluffy pink one with a hood, which took the form of a dog, with floppy ears and a white nose in the middle - and had the hood up, shielding her tear-stroked cheeks and her blood-shot eyes. I ran across the road, sweat dripping down the back of my neck and my heart beating fast. A shiny black car screeched to a halt as he saw me dashing towards the other side of the sidewalk. He honked his horn in fury, and I mouthed the word ‘Sorry’ to him and smiled in guilt and embarrassment. Finally, I approached Angela warily, since I was still unsure if she allowed me to speak to her after our…incident with each other. 

‘Are you all right?’ I asked her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder. She blinked blankly, and turned to face me. She looked shocked, surprised even. ‘I…’ she stuttered, attempting to force the words out of her mouth, but none would come. ‘I…I don’t think…that Mum is…’

Her eyes glistened with tears. Suddenly, she wailed in agony, crying unbelievably loud. I hushed her, desperate that none of the neighbours would hear, but nothing would stop her. She sobbed at an uncontrollable pace. Finally, she stopped and whimpered. 

‘What’s wrong? What’s wrong with Mum?’ I asked, a gentle tone forming in my voice.

‘She’s…not well. Police. Trying to investigate. I found her. I wanted to check in on her, but the door was locked. She keeps a spare key to the door underneath the plant pot in the living room. I unlocked it…’ she said, ‘She’s not well, Maddie.’

With wide eyes, I stared at the front door. I raced towards the four policemen. ‘What’s going on? What’s wrong with Mum?’ I asked them hurriedly whilst they glared at me, their brow furrowed. 

‘Well…’ the first man said. He had brown hair and a moustache, with his blue cap in his hands. ‘Your mother…’

‘Oh, spit it out, Jonathan!’ interrupted a younger-looking man with neatly combed blonde hair. ‘Can’t you see the girl is panicking? Tell her quickly, then!’

‘Stop being rude to the newbie, Michael. He’s just nervous, ‘is all,’ said a brunette-haired man with bright amber eyes, which seemed to be Mr Burke, one of our neighbours. He was much kinder and calmer than Michael.

‘We could’ve had this over with now!’ a ginger-haired man with frustrated brown eyes and freckles across the sides of his nose exclaimed. ‘But you all are just arguing like mad! We have a worried child over here, men!’ 

‘Your Mum…’ began Jonathan again, ‘She has unfortunately been found-’

 Just then, police came filing out, interrupting him, and a long stretcher was carried out by three people on either side. A strange shape was covered by a gigantic, white cloth over the top. The shape looked as if it were a body. As if it were…

Tears streamed down my face as I watched on in shock. She was dead. Dead. Just then, a woman with her brunette hair tied back into a low bun raced towards us, a red handbag flying carelessly around her shoulder. She wore a pair of black flared jeans and a white, silky turtleneck top, with cuffs around her wrists and chunky platform boots. She had perfect emerald green eyes and slight wrinkles beneath them. As she came towards us, I saw who it was - it was Mrs. Smith, our next door neighbour. When she finally made it to us, she crouched down and grabbed her knees, breathing heavily. She stood herself up again and looked at Angela, a sense of sympathy in her eyes. 

‘They didn’t have any muffins, so I hope a brownie will be good enough.’ she said, crouching down again, her soft voice soothing Angela greatly. She pulled a bagged brownie out of her jean pocket, smiling as a sign of comfort. Then, she turned to face me. ‘Hello, Madeline, dear. I know what an impact this is having on both of you, but I promise that you will recover. It’ll just take some time, that’s all. I’m so sorry for your loss. Mrs Solace was a truly remarkable woman, and I am, again, very sorry that you are going through this.’ She reached into her other jeans pocket and grabbed a brown bag, handing it to me. ‘Here, take it. It’s only food, but I guess anything would be good to have about now.’ I peeked into the bag, and saw a singular sugar cookie - my favourite. All of a sudden, I had an unexpected memory of baking these with Mum one day. It was raining quite heavily outside, so we decided to stay inside. The chaotic mess in the kitchen, produced mainly by Angela. Mum’s contagious laughter that caused us all to join in. Dad had entered the room, noticing the mayhem around him. He had smiled and chuckled lightly, gazing at all three of us with love in his eyes. He loved us dearly. 

Then why did he leave?

Without notice, my mind was dizzy with thoughts and I felt light-headed. My knees buckled underneath me, and I collapsed onto the concrete ground. Angela’s scream. The blurry faces of the four policemen and Mrs. Smith shaking my shoulders desperately, and Angela staring down at me, with worry in her eyes. She sobbed hard.

I wanted to drown. I wanted to drown. For my body to sink. And that it would never be found.