Dusted
Crap. I'm so late. I'm so late. I'm so late!
You pulled your car up to the elementary loop, one of the last vehicles to make the turn. Sitting on the bench out front, alone, sat a small boy with shaggy brown hair. Your car slowed next to him as you rolled the passenger window down. "I'll let ya have dessert before dinner if you promise not to be too mad at me?" Big brown eyes lit up and the child ran to your car. He shut the door and clicked himself in before answering. "Only if you make brownies, Mom's old recipe!" You smiled to your little brother. "Done."
Fiddling with your keys, you used your hip to bust open the door to your tiny apartment. "Hi mom." You brought your fingertips to your lips and pressed it to the cold frame that represented your mother. Your purse hit the countertop with an audible thud. Tiny footsteps assured you that your little brother had run to his room to start on some homework. Smiling to yourself, you pulled out the Betty Crocker brownie mix that was 'your mother's recipe'. You'd never tell Tyler that and you doubted that the 5th grader knew the difference.
It took around a half hour to finish the brownies on top of prepping dinner. Mac N' Cheese. You worked in education and had just enough for rent and simple groceries. To say it was a surprise that you basically became a single mom back in 2012 was an understatement. Tyler was only four and you had just turned twenty when it happened. You sometimes dreamed of a different life, but never felt resentful. If you were to get stuck with any brat, you were glad it was Tyler. That kid was an angel.
Shaking your head, you cleared the thoughts away, the Mac N' Cheese just finishing up. "Ty, dessert and dinner are just about ready, can you come set the table?" You pulled the plates down from the cupboards, knowing he couldn't reach them. Weird. No response. "Ty! Table duty, c'mon!"...still nothing. You rolled your eyes, assuming he had the portable DVD player out and his headphones too loud. You threw open the door, ready to scold the boy. Your jaw dropped. He was nowhere to be found. The window in his room wasn't an option, seeing how it didn't open. You ransacked the closet and began to panic. "Ty, I swear to god this isn't funny anymore!" Not even a giggle. Your heart raced and you could feel your upper lip dampen from the sweat. Sirens outside caught your attention and you ran to look what happened, praying Tyler wasn't involved. What you saw was worse. All on the street, people were vanishing. Like magic or something, the only evidence they had ever been there being the piles of dust they left behind. Cars with no drivers slammed into fire hydrants and fires broke out from unattended stoves and grills. You went cold as you turned to look at Tyler's Lightning McQueen bedspread. A pile of dust sat innocently near the headboard. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to hit something. But all you could manage was to fall to your knees, hands sifting through the dust. A single tear fell and opened the floodgates.