Mrs. Atkins woke us up earlier than if it was a school day. She urged us to get dressed and to pack up our bags in the car. We did as we were told and were the last two to sit at the table for breakfast. Mrs. Atkins hurriedly filled our plates and rushed us to finish eating so we could hit the road.
I eagerly dug in. Mrs. Atkins made more for breakfast than my mom ever made for me my whole life. She had waffles, pancakes, toast, scrambled eggs, bacon and cereal spread out across the table. It's hard to remember that this time last year, I would only be able to eat the middle school free lunch for the whole day. Maybe if I was lucky, I would be sent home with a soup can by a classmate or teacher. It's weird to look back on these moments and wonder why no one thought I was in danger. Did they just not care? Was it because I wasn't related to them? Or maybe because I didn't speak up so they didn't reach out?
