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H ow did my perfect life go up in flames so quickly?

This time last year, I was in the deserts of Arizona photographing wildlife with my parents. Now, I've officially moved to the middle-of-nowhere Ohio, and my parents are . . . th-they're . . . I can feel the panic starting to set in. Deep breath in, hold it, 5, 4, 3, 2, , release— they're gone.

It was so sudden, and I'm still having a really hard time with losing them. I've never had diagnosable anxiety to the point that I needed help—that is, until everything happened. I was always a slightly anxious kid, but when you have the best parents in the world, you feel like you can handle anything, but now they're gone . Not like, "Hey, see you later," gone. They're gone, and they're not coming back. They went to a place that I can't follow. Not for a very long time, anyway. So now, I have to learn to navigate my life without them. Without the very people I've spent nearly every moment of my life with, for now, I've lost them, and even though I'm handling it a little better each day, it's a day I'll never forget.

Four months ago

I was sitting at the retro-red diner table in our eat-in kitchen when someone knocked on the door of our temporary rental. I wasn't expecting anyone, mostly because I don't know anyone, and Mom and Dad don't knock. I checked my smartwatch for the time and to make sure I didn't have any messages saying that they would be home soon with their arms full of groceries or something. With no warning of their arrival, I slowly rose and made my way to the old, white door. I stood on my tiptoes to check the peephole, spotting a somber-looking man in a uniform. "Who are you?" I hollered through the door. I don't know this guy; there is no way I am opening this door.

"Officer Bentley, ma'am, with the Phoenix Police Department. Are you Leera? Leera Adams?" he replied, holding his badge up to the peephole for me to see. Satisfied, I slowly opened the door, and with my arms crossed, I stepped back to try to keep a safe distance.

"Um, yes, what exactly can I do for you?" I asked my dirty, used-to-be-white shoes, hoping we could get whatever this is done quickly.

"May I come in? I need to speak with you, and I think it would be best if we could have a seat." He slowly stepped over the threshold, hands where I could see them. He cautiously raised his right hand, directing me back toward the old, red table I was just seated at. I lowered myself back onto my chair and pushed my homework away.

My heart felt like an angry woodpecker was trying to break out of my chest. My hands were trembling and freezing cold, but somehow I was sweating. What in the world is going on?

I hadn't had a lot of interaction with law enforcement or people in general. I'd been homeschooled my whole life. My mom, dad, and I traveled the world, mostly the US, for their jobs. Mom was a photographer, and Dad was a journalist; together, they were one of the most sought-after photojournalist teams in the business. They could always get the perfect shot that no one else was able to capture. They found the animals and plant life that expertly evaded everyone else's lenses. A few times, they even rediscovered something that was believed to be extinct!

So, I may not have had the typical childhood, but I loved every minute of it. I never really felt envious of other kids' experiences because I was always just so happy. Sure, I wondered what a normal life would look like, but at the end of the day, I couldn't give up these amazing experiences. I had the absolute best parents in the world while exploring the literal world. Anyone who can complain about something so amazing is beyond me.

The officer cleared his throat. I was so lost in my head that I forgot he was here. I forgot that something seemed to be wrong. How could I forget that, even for a moment? I sighed and slowly looked up, still not quite making eye contact. "Can you please tell me what's going on? You're kind of freaking me out."

He sighed, twisting his hands in his lap. He stood and paced around the room for a moment before he took a deep breath and looked at me with the saddest, grey-blue eyes I'd ever seen. Oh no, something's wrong. Something is very wrong. Where's Mom and Dad? Shouldn't they be here for whatever he's about to say?

"Ma'am, do you have any family you can call that you can stay with for a little while?" he asked softly. His mousy-brown hair was a mess, like he'd been running his hands through it.

"No, my mom and dad went out on a photoshoot, and I was finishing up my homework. They'll be home any minute. Maybe we should wait for them. Here, let me call them and see where they are. I'll let them know you're here and that they need to come home." I knew I was rambling, but I couldn't stop, and the phone just kept ringing and ringing.

The officer slowly reached for my phone and set it face down on the table. He kneeled down in front of me and grabbed my small, trembling hands covered in a thin layer of cold sweat, in his. With his large, rough hands wrapped around mine, he stared at the floor for a moment before looking me in the eyes as he said, "I'm sorry, Leera, can you slow down and focus for me?" I barely nodded, but he saw the slight motion. "Leera, your parents can't answer the phone."

That's ridiculous; my parents always answered the phone. They have never, in the history of me calling them, not answered the phone. What was going on? Were they okay?

"Leera, look at me. Your parents can't answer the phone. There was a car accident on the—"

"Oh my gosh, they've been in an accident?! Are they okay? Are they in the hospital? Can you take me to them?" I was rambling again, but again, I couldn't stop. Stopping meant he could keep talking and tell me something I didn't want to hear. The shaking and the angry bird in my chest were getting worse. They were now joined by a heavy weight pressing down on me, making it hard for me to take a deep breath.

The officer squeezed my hands that he was still holding and waited for me to refocus on him. In that moment, it felt like someone dropped a lead weight in my stomach, and my eyes were burning with tears that hadn't fallen yet. "Please tell me they're okay and you're here to take me to them," I whispered just loud enough for him to hear me.

"I'm so sorry, but your parents didn't survive the accident. They were already gone when we found the car. Do you have anyone you can call?"

No one. I had no one. It was always just the three of us. Neither of them had any living family. We never needed anyone else. We were the Three Musketeers. We did everything together—just the three of us. I was all alone. Truly and completely alone. What am I going to do?

The dam of tears was released before I could even feel it coming. Twin saltwater streams cascaded down my face, but no sound came out. I slowly shook my head at the officer and looked around the rental. Is this really happening?

"What do I do?" I whispered with a sniffle, "This is a short-term rental for their current job, before we moved on to the next one. Where are they? Can I see them? Maybe it's not them. They were the nicest people ever; maybe they just let someone borrow their car. What do I do? Mom is supposed to take me shopping for my dorm room tomorrow. What do I do?"

My breaths were coming faster and faster while the tears held a steady pace down my cheeks, but other than my running thoughts, no sounds came out. This can't be real. I have to be dreaming. I've fallen asleep while working on my homework, and Mom and Dad will wake me up any minute so that we can check my work and cook dinner together. It's Tuesday, and we always have tacos together because it's Taco Tuesday.

Just then, a small knock sounded on the door. I lurched towards the door so fast that I almost ran right into the kitchen counter. I knew they had to be okay; I knew they weren't gone, but wait—I came to a crashing halt, just steps from the door— Mom and Dad don't knock . . .

Once again, I lifted myself onto my toes to check the peephole. This time there was a small woman with a folder in her arms. Officer Bentley reached around me to open the door and gave the woman a sad smile. "Hi Shelia, this is Leera," he stopped talking, and they seemed to exchange a silent conversation where she was asking him questions with her eyebrows, and he gave her a short, clipped nod.

I was taken aback by whatever secret, silent conversation they had, knowing that what was said could not be good news, and hopefully not worse news, for that matter. I froze, realizing that if it were true, if my parents were really gone, my life would be completely turned upside down. I stared blankly at the professionally dressed woman standing in my doorway, and I'd started to become overly anxious. To avoid having a complete breakdown in front of two strangers, I focused on her outfit. I couldn't help but notice that her business suit matched the color of her hair—salt and pepper.

Getting knocked back into reality, a reality I really did not want to face. The woman took both my hands in hers and walked me further into the rental toward the uncomfortable black leather couch. I've always hated this couch. We were in Arizona. It was always hot, and your legs stuck to it and got all sweaty. It wasn't a couch for snuggling together to watch a movie. It was the stuffy couch of someone who cared more about how something looked than its comfort and usefulness. I'd been so excited to move on to the next job, just to get away from that couch.

Over the next hour, we discussed what they found and what that meant for me. Since I had nobody I could call, I got a case worker, even though I would turn eighteen in a couple weeks. Apparently, the case worker was supposed to help me make sure my "affairs were in order" before I went off to college in August. They advised that it was in my best interest to not see the state of my parents and that they'd make sure I got all their belongings as soon as possible. Then, after what felt like a lifetime, they both gave me their phone numbers in case I needed anything, made sure I was okay to be alone, and then left.

I slowly closed the door, leaning my whole body against it as I did, and locked it. I turned around, leaned my back onto the door, slowly slid down, wrapped my arms around my legs, and sobbed uncontrollably. The tears were finally accompanied by what I can only describe as fresh waves of hell. My body felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside out, while the outside was still cold and clammy. I rocked back and forth, willing the pain away, begging Mom and Dad to please just walk through the door. How could a broken heart hurt worse than any physical wound I'd ever endured? How could a heart break so thoroughly and keep beating?

Hours later, they hadn't come home. I awoke on the floor in front of the door. I don't know if I passed out from lack of oxygen or if I cried myself to sleep. Tapping my watch awake, I noticed that it was just before midnight. After pulling myself out of the heap I was lying in, I wrapped my arms back around my legs and just stared around the room for a minute. My watch beeped, letting me know I missed my vitamin reminder. Mom and Dad took vitamins very seriously. A healthy life is a happy life, and all that. A lot of good that did them . I climbed to my feet but had to lean on the door for support for a moment as my legs had that awful tingling feeling from being asleep. It hurt and tickled and was so uncomfortable, but they finally subsided enough for me to make it to the kitchen cabinet where we kept all our vitamins.

Swallowing them down with a glass of tap water, I took a moment to be thankful that my vitamins were one less thing I had to worry about.

After I had decided to head to college in the fall, Dad had immediately bought all my necessities for my first six months of school. He was the planner of the family. Mom was very whimsical where he needed order. They were a perfectly balanced pair. Mom and Dad always told me I was the best of both of them and I had to agree, I felt like I had a happy-whimsy-ordered balance.

As my mind quieted, I found myself with my head tilted back and just staring at the ceiling. What was I going to do without them?

Present

A small sob chokes out of me, knocking me back to reality. Shaking my head, I look around the small, drab space I will be sharing with a relative stranger for at least the next six months. Mom would have so many ideas for our little room, and they would have all been perfect.

Channeling my inner whimsy, I make a list of things to brighten the space and make it feel more like home. Make it feel more like my mom was actually able to take me shopping that day. I vow to choose at least one thing that I find hideous, that dad would have simply shaken his head at, that she would have loved.

Happy with my list, I set to unpacking. Since I was used to moving around all the time, I didn't have much to unpack. I ordered one of those POD storage unit things for my mom and dad's stuff that I couldn't part with. That way, when I finish school and settle down, I can have it delivered to me. Setting a picture of the three of us on my desk, I touch their faces and smile. "I love you guys. I wish you could be here. I hope I can do this without you."

I allow myself one more tear before promising to focus on happiness. The therapist I had in Arizona was so sweet and gave me so many tools to help manage my grief and anxiety. I would have been truly lost without her. Referring me to her was the only helpful thing my worthless caseworker did.

After just an hour of unpacking my little box of stuff, my watch beeps again, reminding me to take my vitamins.

Content with my progress, I curl up in bed and browse Mom and Dad's Instagram account. Seeing their work brings me peace. Remembering my old life hurts a lot more some days than others, but I know they would want me to be happy, so I'm really trying. I'm taking this amazing opportunity given to me, and I'm going to start this new life with happiness and good intentions.

My roommate is supposed to be here tomorrow, and I want to be well rested so we can get off on the right foot. We've been talking all summer, and we've hit it off really well, but you never know what will happen in real life.

I mean, I've never had a real friend before, outside of my parents. Sure, I might have made quick friends with the guides or tribes when we were on assignment, but since I've never gone to school and their work consisted of nature and wildlife photography all over the world, I really never settled down or socialized. I'm worried I'll be awkward and strange, but I hope we can be friends.

Maybe once I'm good and settled, I can even meet someone. Obviously, never having friends, I never had anyone to be interested in. That's another thing my parents did well. They showed me that when you love and choose the right person to spend your life with, it's really not that far off from the movies. They would dance in the kitchen at night after cleaning up from dinner, constantly holding hands and kissing each other in public, and my dad was always buying her flowers or little tokens of love just because. I don't expect to find "the one" necessarily, but maybe I could date a few people and test the waters. Maybe I could just get my first kiss.

With my mind busy and my body tired, having successfully completed the first day of my new life, I finally put my phone on the charger and call it a night.