Destroyed

Chapter 7: An Unexpected Twist

On the day of the field trip, I turned in my permission slip to Mrs. Triton. In return, she gave me a smile then placed it on the stack with the other slips. It never occurred to me that I accidentally had the slip at least two weeks, but it was a good thing I had it or else I'd end up in the classroom.

After a quick roll call, the eleventh graders left the classroom in a hurry then boarded themselves in a huge bright yellow vehicle. Girls sat on the right side of the bus while the boys sat on the left.

With a quick slam, the bus doors close automatically then the vehicle began to move. It took the bus driver ten minutes to get out of the driveway and roll onto the road.

While the bus is filled with notorious chatter, my seat buddy, Paige stared mindlessly at the window. Maybe she is still thinking about the divorce. "Hey Paige," I began. "So, what do you think the gift shop would have?"

She didn't answer my question right away, she only just watched the blue sky and the speeding dark grey pavement. "Paige?" I asked. Just then, she swiveled her head to glance at me.

"Sorry," she mumbled in embarrassment. "I just got so distracted from my mother, I didn't hear you." My smile fell flat. "Oh," I said, noticing the red flush came over my cheeks. "Hey Cleo," Paige began. "Yeah?" I asked.

"Do you ever get lonely when your parents go to work?" she asked. It was the first time that someone asked me that question. "Yes," I admitted. "But it wasn't exactly lonely, Uncle Seth takes care of me and he's pretty cool."

"Sometimes when I am finished with my homework, he lets me paint, take pictures, and read books. Uncle Seth doesn't like playing chess with me though, because I always beat him."

"Do your parents ever fight?" Paige asked. I shook my head. I had never seen Mom and Dad start a reckless argument, except the time when Mom and Dad argued about Grandpa's death.

"My parents always fight," Paige grumbled. "Mom gets mad at Dad for forgetting to buy groceries or even when Dad gets mad at her for forgetting to drop me or Jared off at our karate class or  soccer game."

"How did Jared feel about the divorce?" I asked silently. "He wasn't surprised about the divorce." Paige answered. "It's like he knew about Mom and Dad's situation." I patted her hand gently then told her that everything is going to be alright.

I saw lines of sadness appear on her face. "It's not fair," she mumbled. "I wished they never separate. Everyday, I come inside the house to greet a Mom who pretends that Dad doesn't exist. What kind of monster is she?"

"Listen," I said firmly. "Even though your parents are separating, they still care for you, including Jared. I could never imagine having my parents getting a divorce, or barely knowing each other."

Paige gave me a sad smile, but then told me that she wasn't in the mood to be cheered up. She let out a sigh then went back to face the window. Suddenly, I felt a small tap on my knee.

I looked to see Jared peering at me while his buddy is too busy, texting on his phone. He brushed his dark hair back then gave me a nervous smile. "It's all my fault," he insisted.  "I should have never mention it to you in front of Paige's face."

I nodded as if I understood. "I'm sorry about what your family is going through." I apologized. "It's the hard knock life for us," Jared quoted with a sigh. "Don't worry about it. I am sure Paige will understand."

He smiled then went back to reading his book. I should give her some more time, I suggested. Remembering the laughing incident in the cafeteria, I smiled at Paige. Maybe, this trip will bring her back somehow. I thought.

All of a sudden, the bus came to a quick stop. My classmates stopped playing on their phones then looked at their windows: a wide building, which reminded me of Washington High, came in front of the bus as if it was a train.

Like the school, white grew on the concrete, stair, and structure of the building like a big wedding cake. Six vertical windows glued on the top of the museum, making sure that they wouldn't overlap one another.

The bottom has two glass doors: each had solid grey metal borders around them white a deformed knob in the center of them. A major crowd of people covered the perimeter of the lawn.

Deceased American presidents draped over the white walls of the museum. After another roll call, Mrs. Triton led us off of the bus and into the the majestic castle.

As soon as we stepped inside, my heart nearly dropped. The place is amazing: there were artifacts surrounded by a glass box, statutes made out some sort of wood, and also there is a small store full of stuffed presidents, icons, and items behind the female tourist guide. There is at least two thousand people who were marveling the exhibits.

Brown tiles made up the floor while lights hung from the white ceiling, like it's a chandelier. A cooler shade of gray made the insides of the museum look fantastic. I couldn't wait to take these pictures and show them to Mom, Dad, and Uncle Seth.

The female tourist guide, who was standing behind the glass door of the gift shop, came over to us with huge smiles. Her ash blond hair formed into a gigantic frizzy afro. She is dressed in a green thick shirt, elastic khaki pants, and dull black shoes.

Straight across her shirt is a name tag that spelt Julie. "Hello kids," she greeted us kindly. "My name is Julie and I will be your tour guide for this expedition." Everyone listened attentively except for me, who is searching for something unimportant.

Just then, a loud explosion came out of nowhere. Lights, massive rocks, and glass  flew into our faces. Shrieks and moans surrounded my classmates with dread. Mrs. Triton gathered us while Julie vowed to find an exit.

The woman slipped through the anxious crowd, unaware about her fate.