Til It Happens To You

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"'Til your world burns and crashes, 'til you're at the end of your rope, 'til you're standing in my shoes, I don't wanna hear a thing from you, 'cause you don't know. 'Til it happens to you, you don't know how it feels. 'Til it happens to you, you won't know, it won't be real."
-Lady Gaga

*****

Miss Holloway sat in her room after a long day. The dance was over, unfortunately interrupted by Laraby. He'd ordered her to bring him all the children's files and progress reports, she wondered why he could possibly need those for at 8:00 pm on a Friday.
When she'd completed that task somewhat resentfully, he'd told her she'd better get a good night's sleep because tomorrow would be a long day. She didn't know what he meant by that, but it made her uneasy, didn't like it.
Marsha was never told anything around here, no information whatsoever. Her job was basically to not ask questions, do most of the work and keep her mouth shut. She couldn't help but worry that tomorrow's big day had something to do with the "imminent threat" that no one would tell her anything about. How was she supposed to help get the kids ready if she didn't know what for?
Miss Holloway thought about the dance they'd just had. All the children looked so happy and...normal. Like regular students at a school dance or a prom. She accidentally let her mind wander to her own prom. The night that still fuelled her nightmares 20 years later. We've all heard prom night sob stories, not being asked, getting stood up by your date, breaking up in the middle of the dance floor. But let me assure you, Marsha's prom was nothing like that.

*****

Marsha was the second youngest out four incredibly talented children. Her father was a singer who would have easily made it big had it not been for the dreams of being there for his family not gotten in the way. Her mother was a model with a passion for art. I know what you're thinking, that sounds like the kind of parents every kid dreams of having.
But things are never perfect. From very young age, three of the four children had discovered their passions, what they wanted to do with their time. For the eldest two, that was singing. Every school Christmas concert, town talent show, or family get together always features some kind of performance from the two children.
As for the youngest of the family, she found her passion in dance. She had taken ballet lessons from the young age of 3 and knew that she would do it for the rest of her life.
Marsha was different, she'd never had that one thing to hold on to. There wasn't any specific thing she loved to do and that bothered her since it separated her from the rest of her family. So she tried everything. Ballet classes, skating lessons, her mother taught her to paint, her father taught her to play the piano and sing. She was good at everything she tried, but she didn't truly enjoy any of it.
She began modelling when she was 13, something she never told anyone outside of her family. She was embarrassed by the fact that the only after school activity she partook in required no talent at all.
But speaking of school, she was always extremely intelligent. Her academic achievement was something she could always rely on. But having the highest grade point average at her school deemed her, of course, the school nerd. She didn't have many friends, but she never really minded that much.
But the day before her sixteenth birthday was the day that everything changed. Her oldest sister had already moved out and she went off in search of a record deal. Her brother was in his senior year of high school with plans to graduate a semester early and follow in his sister's footsteps. Her younger sister may have only been fourteen, but she had already been to five or six auditions for prestigious dance academies. Everyone was getting their lives sorted out and Marsha simply continued to keep her grades high and have her picture taken after school.
She can still remember the day all too lividly. She had been at the kitchen table, textbooks spread out around her as she studied for a test she had the next morning. She thought nothing of the knock on the door, it could have been anyone. A neighbour, her best friend Lily, the post man. She swung open the front door casually but felt her blood run cold when she saw a police officer standing in front of her with solemn eyes.
Behind the officer, were two or three police cars and a few other policemen discussing something amongst themselves. The man at the door, who Marsha recognized as Constable Brown, the man her father had to speak with after he was the victim of a minor hit and run, removed his hat and asked to come inside.
Marsha led him to the living room with shaky footsteps, she wanted to know what was going on.
"You're one of Simon and Katherine Holloway's children?"
"Yes, what's-" The question she was about to ask was forgotten and her unfinished sentence hung in the air.
"Miss Holloway, you may want to sit down." Marsha almost didn't hear him finish his sentence, she instead got caught up in how strange it was to be called "Miss Holloway."
She sat down on the couch, and he sat in a chair across from her. "Are you the only one home?"
"Yes, my parents were out of town for the weekend, they should be on their way home, my sister's at dance, my brother's on a date, I-"
The officer sighed deeply and looked at her with such sadness that she wanted to burst into tears without a real reason. "Miss Holloway, I'm so sorry."
As he finally gave her a reason for his presence in her home, she felt her arms go limp and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears.
"While your parents were driving home this afternoon, they must have lost control of their vehicle. They were found in a ditch, the car completely totalled, an ambulance was called, but Imm afraid it was too late, they were both gone before they could even be pulled from the car."
It was a long time before Marsha could speak, Constable Brown understood her silence and said nothing while she tried desperately to say something, anything.
"Gone. Gone, as in-" She began but her voice got caught in her throat. "As in dead?" The tears that had filled her eyes finally ran down her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry."

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