“You won’t be able to go to Great America if you don’t turn in your textbooks. They are due on Wednesday, or just two days,” announced my teacher in a solemn voice. 

     I drummed my fingers on the desk impatiently because the last two teachers already warned us of this just today. Of course I would not forget my textbooks in a black hole. I already turned in two of them; I only had one left. I knew where that red, Algebra I textbook was. It rested on the seat of the antique, coffee-colored, chair inside my family’s study room. Still, I paid careful attention to whatever he spoke because he could possibly say something important.

     “You know, it’d be a bummer if you got denied access to this trip with all your friends just because you forgot a few stacks of paper,” he continued with a light chuckle.

     Nobody laughed. A chirping cricket could be heard if it were nighttime.

     “Not even a grunt...for confirmation,” he commented. “I get this dead class and they don’t even reply” he jokingly stated with the humorous expression of a cut-rate comedian.

     The class finally replied with a titter and a few short snorts, giving our teacher the satisfaction he waited for. 

     After school ended, I biked home as usual. Whilst biking, I thought about my Algebra I textbook in an unsure wonder. Then, a puzzling question popped in my head.

     “Was my textbook on the chair in the study, or on a shelf in my bedroom?” I asked myself in deep contemplation.

     I suddenly realized that I could have mistaken the textbook’s location. 

     “I’ll figure it out once I get home,” I thought, reassuring my growing worries with this idea.

     Nearing my house’s front door, I plopped my bike on the cobblestone floor and quickly rushed into the courtyard. While peeking through my house’s large windows, I searched for the ghost of the textbook with rapid eye movements and noticed the vacancy of the chair. The chair was not in its original spot of the study!  I rushingly unzipped my backpack and tumbled for the key to the entrance.              Getting a hold of it, I shoved the key into its rightful spot and with a twist and jerk, opened the door. I looked around my surroundings and found no textbook or the chair that it supposedly rested on. I stomped throughout the house with my footsteps echoing the rhythm of its impatient owner’s mood throughout the thin-walled hallways.

     “That is pretty loud. Can you stop walking that way?” yelled my father across the other end of the house.

     “Oh. Yeah I can. My bad,” I apologized hastily. “Do you know where the brown chair is that’s normally in the study?” I questioned, yelling back to him so he could hear me across the house.

     “That chair?” he asked. “I’m sitting on it.” he answered.

     In deep confusion, I hurried to sound of the voice. After I turned the corner of a hallway, the spectacle of the chair loomed into view with my father of course, sitting on it like a royal criminal.

     “You had it the whole time!” I exclaimed in contrasting frustration and relief. I could not believe that I wasted so much worry over nothing, but rejoiced because the hunt was over.

     “Yeah! You were looking for it?” he asked with a sly smile. 

     “Yes! Yes I was looking for it!” I said back.

     “Oh. I moved it,” he plainly stated.

     Giving a light chuckle, I shuffled to the chair and inspected it thoroughly. The chair had its grand armrests, squishy cushions, and wooden legs, but it lacked one important feature: the textbook. I asked my father if he knew where the textbook was. He shook his head, indicating a “no.” A heavy concern struck me through the heart.

     “Are you sure you don’t know?” I asked once again for desperate confirmation.

     He said he had no clue. 

     I grinded my teeth and questioned, “Did you see it while moving the chair?”

     “No, I didn’t,” he replied candidly.

     While sighing, I assured myself that I had one more day to locate and return the textbook. However, I was already imagining grim scenarios where I was forced stay at school while everyone else partied and celebrated the end of middle school in Great America. Those imaginations would become reality if I did not find that textbook.

     The next day, I went to school and checked my locker to find no textbook. This eliminated the possibility that it was not at home. After school ended, I returned home in search for the missing textbook. I asked my family to keep a lookout for it. Instead of casually keeping one eye open, the full force of my family assisted me in the search for this elusive textbook. We displaced furniture, turned over couch cushions, flung open closets, pulled out cabinets, flipped over stacks of paper, and even unearthed construction material from our decorated front yard. We tackled every single room inside the house including the minivan. 

     “Did you check under the sink?” asked my mother.

     “Yes. I did. I checked it.” I quickly answered. “The sink!” I thought to myself.

     I became so desperate as to search underneath a kitchen sink for a school textbook! Now, I was just arbitrarily poking around to give myself hope in the dire situation. I could feel the steady fatigue of hopelessness growing upon my family. They were tired of searching everything and finding nothing. Eventually, they resigned their efforts, and I was left alone to search for a textbook cursed by Satan or more likely Houdini. I had no more company or support to help me accomplish an impossible task. I reached for motivation and hope, but clasped a gaping void. Emptiness was all that I had left. Seeing no point in continuing, I followed my family's decision, ready to accept my undeniable fate. I jumped off into a heap of soft pillows which cushioned my fall, but as I was sinking in, I hit something hard. It was the Algebra I textbook.

     This dramatic episode took place in the span of only two days, but it has taught me a lesson I will remember for the rest of my life. When you are faced with a problem, you will reach out for help. But when help fails, you will plunge down into your darkest moments. Your hope might seem extinguished and you will feel like you have hit rock-bottom. However, luck will find a way to surprise you, whether it be by dragging you from the depths of below to the sky or bruising your tailbone from landing on a textbook.