Meghan J.

                                                                   Lost

                                                                Chapter 1

Hello, my name is Bailey. I am fourteen. I live in a small town in Massachusetts. I have a brother, a mom, a dad, and my friends include Gracie, Sarah, and Tori. My hobbies consist of singing, drawing, and playing field hockey(#7, forward). I am the quirkiest person you will ever meet. I might just dance around like a fairy for no reason even when my friends are right there watching me (and probably taking a video of me because I’m hilarious!) Somewhat typical right? Wrong! Ever wonder what it is like to be lost? Not being lost in shopping mall lost. Not lost-in-the-lesson-lost. Not lost-in-your-book-or-music-lost. Lost like you-don't-know-who-you-really-are lost. You probably think I'm crazy, I know who I am right. I’m Bailey from Massachusetts with a happy family, great friends and I like to sing, dance, play field hockey… blah blah blah...Wrong again! That’s not me. I'm none of those things. My name is Amelia Emerson Blake. I am fifteen. My real home is in Maine. I have a brother and a father. My real mother died four years ago. I have no friends. I don't have any hobbies. I don't know what I am like. Bailey wasn't real. Amelia is.

 

“Stop lying to me!”

 

“I’m not lying honey, trust me.”

 

“How can I trust you? You lied to me for so long! How could you? I trusted you! I’m done playing this game! Just let me be!” (Woah intense right)

 

“You are not leaving, young lady! This is your home, the home you’ve had for fourteen years.”

 

“What don’t you get, Sydney? I am not your daughter. You are not my mother and I am not fourteen!”

 

“Yes you are, honey. Who told you otherwise?”

 

“No one.”

 

“What do you mean, no one?”

 

“I mean no one you need to know about. I‘m not talking to you anymore, I’m leaving.”

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

And then it went black.  This sick lady hit me over the head with a glass bottle. Classic! Almost like something out of a movie. Like the one we watched last night. Before I knew anything. Before the fight. Before now.

Before, it was December 2nd. It was a dreary day. The sky was a light grey, and the clouds would not let any sunlight go through. Everyday was dark and I could infer that it was going to rain later. I walked into my newly-built high school, where they just brought up the seventh and eighth graders. I hate it. They are so annoying! They think they own the place! One of them just walked right up to me yesterday and said, “Hey could you tell me what you are studying in science so I can start my learnings early?” I could tell he was trying to be funny for his friends standing in a group a couple feet away from him. He was wearing a Vikings hoodie and some black nike shoes. His hair was a golden blonde and he was probably almost five feet. A munchkin to me. I quickly looked at him as he talked and then walked away. I had no care in the world to be talking to him. He was in seventh grade; he didn’t matter to me. I quickly made it to my locker on the third floor and took out any work I need to finish in learning center (which is a fancy word the teachers made up for a study). I usually get a pass to go to the library because it is held in the cafeteria where they mix up all the grades. It is so noisy, you can barely hear yourself think. Anyways,  they have some cool stuff in the library. For history, I have to make a family tree poster showing my roots. But the hard part is, my mom doesn't want me looking into our family's history. She said that you might not like what you see.  That only makes me want to find out more. The only family I know is my mom, dad, and my sister, Stacy. No grandparents, no uncles or aunts. I think they are all dead but my parents won’t tell me otherwise. Once, I got into the library. I made it into the section where there are multiple books of family history in our town. I grabbed all of the books. I couldn’t choose just one. When I made it back to my computer in the second row, last seat, I started going through them. The first book was titled, Looking Back, Then and Now by Elizabeth Hummings, a local resident of our town, East Bridgewater. I looked at the table of contents where it read a last name of a family. I tried to find one similar to mine but none came up. I started flipping through the pages of old houses and families back then. I finally realized what I was looking for was not going to be in a book. I went to the front desk where the librarian sat, checking passed in books that were probably overdue due to the disappointed look on her face.

 

“Hello, sweetie. Is there anything that I can help you with?” the librarian said.

 

“Um, I was wondering if you have any old documents of families in town. I am doing a family tree for my history project and I have no idea of where my family leads outside my mom and dad.”

 

“Okay. Hold on, what is your last name?”

 

“Woods.”

 

“Woods. Um, I can't find anyone named Woods here.”

 

“Oh okay, thanks anyway.”

 

How can there be no past documents of my family? My mom said that the Woods have lived here their whole lives. No documents, no evidence of anything. Maybe my family was quiet. I don’t know. Maybe the town hall has something. But what if they don’t?

 

I decided that the only other option, besides asking my mom for the hundredth time, was to go the the town hall and ask about any families with the last name Woods in the last 50 years. Once I made it to the clerk's desk, I asked “Hello, my name is Bailey. I was wondering if there are any documents about residents in this town that I could look at. I am doing a project for my history class and it’s a family tree diagram.”

 

“Um, okay, we have some in the back. Why don't you take a seat and I will bring them to you real quick.”

 

She motioned to the table behind me. I quickly sat down and waited for the big reveal. It felt like a lifetime. Could she go any faster? I know she is older and everything, but most old people can walk faster than that.Finally I could see her pass the corner and walking towards me. She placed them lightly on the table and told me to be careful. The pages were old and very fragile. The documents were divided into columns. Each column had a name and where the family lived. I found one that said Woods. There was also another family under it that was our neighbor, based on the address. Their names were the Blakes. I never thought we had any neighbors. Most of the people on our street were nothing like the family in the photo. A mom and a dad.They had a little girl next to them, clutching her father’s leg. And in the mother's arms was a baby. The baby looked really young and was probably just born. At the bottom of the photo, it wrote in cursive, ”The Blakes. Welcome to the neighborhood.” This was fifteen years ago. The whole family had brown hair, but the young girl had red tones in her hair as well. The family’s eyes sparkled. They had pale, light blue eyes that were amazing. Their eyes reminded me of my own. My mom always said that my eyes were beautiful and with their pale blue tones and dark blue specks in the center.The family had pale skin, somewhat like my skin color, but the dad’s was a little more tan than the rest of his family’s. They seemed pretty nice,I guess. I wonder if my mom met them. That was a year before I was born, and my mom said we have been living here for seventeen years.

 

I wonder what they were like? But I couldn't think about them long. I had to focus on my own family and not some former neighbors I used to have. I looked back up where it said the Woods. The columns next to it were surprisingly blank. Nothing. How come my family has lived here for so long and have no documentation of anything? I think, staring blankly at the papers spread out in front of me. In shock, I placed the papers on the counter of the front desk, and said “Thank you,” softly. I felt like I have failed. I had nothing on my family. No old pictures, no stories from my parents, no family heirlooms. The only thing I found out was that I had a very nice family living next to me. Why won't my parents just tell me? They know I work hard. Are they trying to test me? See if I can do this on my own? It would be so easy, though. Just tell me if I had a grandpa or great aunt or something. Anything? They kept it hidden from me for so long. What are they hiding?