Georgia's Journal

My mother hated taking us to school. I think she was afraid she’d be late for work. My strongest and worst memory of starting each new school year was the recurring nightmare the night before school started or the early morning of. Grey and foggy at dawn, the bus would stop in front of our driveway and never wait long enough for me to get outside. As the bus disappeared in the distance and the fog, I’d run after it. I always woke up before catching up to it. My sister had the same recurring nightmare.