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by Cliché 2/24/2015, 10:35 amMy father forgot to pick me up so I'm staying home today. Here's a short story I wrote awhile ago I wanted to hear your thoughts. Here ya go.
Where will I be tomorrow?
Many days, I find myself pondering the thought of “Where will I be tomorrow?” I wonder this every so often on bad days. Days like, perhaps this one, the day my parents died. The day I was called at school from the hospital. I had just left 5th period and was heading to the next one when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“Hey, uh, Hanna Quinn right?” a girl with dirty blonde hair that’s pulled into a ponytail asks me.
“Yeah,” I respond wanting to hurry and get to class seeing as it was still pretty far and had less than a minute.
“You got a phone call in the office, I think it’s pretty serious.” the girl looks at me with her light blue eyes that are hiding behind her glasses.
I nod and start to head towards the office I turn towards the girl and smile, “Thanks.” She nods slightly before heading in the opposite direction hurriedly. I make my way towards the office grumbling hoping I would still be excused from class.
I knock softly on the door. “Come in,” says the light voice of the secretary. I turn the door handle and push, the door swings open slowly with a long creak. I give a slight comment to myself that they should oil the hinges before turning to the secretary and am slightly appalled. She has tear stains on her cheeks as she looks at me in the eyes and looks over my features.
“Are you okay Ms. Jones?” I ask and put my hand on her shoulder.
“Oh, Hanna, I’m perfectly fine, I’m worried about you, you have someone on the phone for you.” she looks sad as she tells me this and I start to panic, what’s wrong? I slowly take the phone out of her hand but before putting it to my ear I let out a shaky breath I didn’t notice I was holding.
“Hello?” I ask and wait for the person on the other line to respond.
“Hello are you Hanna Quinn, daughter of Martha and George Quinn.” a male voice replys on the other end.
“Um, yes, is something wrong? Who is this?”
“I’m a doctor at the local hospital, something is wrong. Your parents…” he trails off.
“What? What happened to them?” I ask my eyes widening and I can feel my throat becoming tighter.
The other line is quiet for awhile before he responds, “they passed away about thirty minutes ago.”
I can feel myself crumbling, the phone falls out of my hand, as the silent tears cascade down my face. As I break down. I fall to the ground, I can feel the soft plush carpet of the office underneath me but that’s all I feel nothing else. I have no relatives. My parents had no siblings and my grandparents are all dead. I’m an only child. Where am I going to stay tonight? Where am I going to live? Where am I going to be tomorrow?
That afternoon I am sitting at the police station, they were shocked when they found out I had no relatives I mean… who could blame them. We still haven’t found a place for me to stay for a while. The seats are surprisingly comfortable. I peer over towards the desk where a lady works talking into a phone. She seems frustrated. I strain my eyes farther looking for some type of ID on her maybe a nametag. I sigh when I finally realize there isn’t one.
“Um, Ms.? I was wondering if I could go outside for a little while,” my throat scratchy from all the crying I’ve been doing, it hurts to talk even. She nods toward the door that leads outside. I stand before slowly moving to the door pushing on it for it to open. I descend the stairs and look at the surrounding area. Downtown has a couple of trees scattered around but from it being the middle of winter no leaves are on the branches. The wind picks up and I shiver. My breath is visible from the chill.
I stare up at the sky, the moon isn’t full yet, maybe tomorrow, it’s partially covered by the thin arms of the surrounding tree. No clouds are in the sky making it easy to see all the magnificent stars hidden during the day. I sit down on one of the cold concrete steps bringing my knees closest as possible to me. My fingers feel numb but that’s okay I’ll go back inside soon. I’m losing track of time though. The stars are helping me think, the police haven’t told me how my parents died yet.
It’s been quite a long time since I first came out here, my fingers are still cold and I’m sure my lips are blue by now, yet I don’t want to go back inside. The cold is welcoming. I can see the frost thats forming on the window of one of the nearby shops. The lights are off, it’s not surprising though, seeing as how late it is. I think it’s the shop my mom always took me to as a kid, the candy store, that sold all different types of sweets. The police department is made of rough brick and the streetlamp keeps flickering giving the street an eery feeling.
Yet, fear never crosses my mind as I watch people pass in their cars. I stand up slowly, my body being reluctant as I slowly lift my foot and start ascending the stairs back to the door of the department. I reach up my hand and slowly grasp the handle pulling the door open before slipping inside trying not to let in the cold.
My eyes wander to the clock in the corner of the room, 11:53 P.M. I walk to the girls restroom, and turn myself to the mirrors, I become shocked, my lips are a light purple color and my face was red from the cold, I had tear stains on my cheeks. I turn the water onto warm and run my hand through it as suspected my hands are almost completely red. I retract my hands quickly as the warm water feels stinging hot on them. I dab them off gently on some paper towels before I turn the water slightly colder and splashed some water on the face.
I walk back into the waiting room and sit down. The lady isn’t here anymore instead there is a man in a police uniform waiting for something. “Um, hello, sir?” I ask the man quietly. He doesn’t turn to me.
“Hello, I am waiting for the secretary to come back so I can ask her some information on Hanna Quinn, please ignore me.” He says keeping his back to me.
He still doesn’t face me, I can feel me starting to become annoyed, “I am Hanna Quinn sir.”
“Oh,” he says slightly surprised, but it has a weird tang to it, never turning around. I can feel my nerves slowly going away. Yet, I can’t decide if I should be scared or not, what if he’s not actually a cop. The annoyance quickly diminishes as the thought sets into my mind and fears starts to rise. “Come with me.”
My legs feel like lead as I stand and shift my weight. The police man turns to head down a hallway. The department has become eerily quiet. I can’t hear anyone else in the building. I follow him only because I hear no one else and the idea of being alone is scarier than following a man that won’t show me his face. His voice is deep and has an odd tone to it. I keep a good distance from him so he can’t try anything funny if he’s not what he appears to be. There’s a picture in the hallway the glass so clean you can see our reflection, and thats when I see his face.
He has a scar running down the left side of his face. Yet, he doesn't seem to notice I saw. I can feel the feeling of fear rise and my throat becomes tight yet I can’t turn around. My body won’t let me, my legs are unwilling. The man continues walking. I stop and watch him as he keeps walking away, then he stops too.
‘He’s noticed I stopped,’ I think panicked, I turn and run out of the hallway, I can hear his heavy footsteps behind me as I make my way to the front door, I push on it as hard as I can before, he catches up to me. I make my way outside and down the steps, it’s not as cold as earlier with all the adrenaline running through my body. There is ice scattered in some places on the sidewalk and it started snowing since I was last out here. I am careful to make sure I don’t slip but it’s pretty hard when you’re in fear for your life.
It finally sets in, it’s midnight some creepy guy is chasing me that might be my parents murderer, assuming they were murdered, and the police are no where to be found. My legs start to become tired but I keep running my foot slips and, for a moment I am lifted off the ground and all my worries leave me before I can feel the hard concrete make contact with my body.
I groan from the impact my back hurts as does my ankle. I probably sprained it. I look at my surroundings, the man is no where in sight, but that fact scares me more than any. I look down at my ankle I can see it already bruising. There’s a wall beside me it looks like the post office building, I slowly pull myself up and look around again to make sure no one is there.
I can see the man he’s a good distance away and the streetlamp probably makes me invisible, I head behind the building and hide. He doesn’t seem to notice me as I slip into the alley and into the shadows. The man passes by in a limp, there’s a scowl on his face but his eyes are bright with excitement like he enjoys the chase.
A deep voice rings down the alley way, “Oh little Hanna, where are you?”
I can feel a chill run up my spine, but I have to stay quiet, I can’t let him catch me with how bad my ankle is. The pain is almost unbearable. The man stands in front of the alley for a little while peering inside, he doesn’t seem to notice me, but that’s when I get a good look at his face and what he’s wearing. The police uniform has a dark spot on it. I want to believe it’s coffee but I know all too well, that’s not what it is. I look at his belt, no walkie, no gun, no flashlight. Relief flows through me. I might be able to live through this. I slowly move behind a dumpster and crouch in case he comes further in.
I peek over the lid and watch as his shadow vanishes behind the other building. I don’t get up yet, I don’t know if he really is gone, I tuck myself further into the wall. When a hand clamps over my mouth. I try to scream and get away from the perpetrator. Well, not really a perpetrator because when I get away from them I realize, it’s an actual cop. I sigh in relief my hand goes to my chest trying to calm myself down.
“You really scared me.” I say out of breathe.
“Well, I didn’t expect to see you hiding there and I believe you’re the girl that was up at the department a little while ago, what happened?” the police man asked, he’s young, he looks like he just joined them, maybe a year ago. So I told him, from when I was outside up until him scaring me behind the dumpster.
He stood, seemingly shocked, “we have got to get back down there.” He grabbed my arm, not too tight to where it hurts, but tight enough I couldn’t pull away. We started to head to the front of the alley towards the street. Towards where the man might be. He could be sitting there waiting for me to show myself. I start to pull my arm from the cop not wanting to see the crazed look in the man’s eyes again.
Fear starts to encumber me. My arms start tingling, my legs feel weak, I feel useless, as the “policeman” keeps pulling me along and that’s when I hear.
“I found her, boss.” I look up and the “policeman” who was dragging me was talking to the man with a scar on his face. Dread fills me. I’m stuck in something I can’t get out of, I’m dead… I need to do something.
The sick twisted smiles on their faces, the grotesque thoughts they probably have in their heads. They killed my parents. That’s all I can think, ‘they killed my parents.’ The man with a scar on his face smiles, a murderous smile, before knocking me out cold.
Then, I wake up, it’s close to the end of 5th hour, not the much more until the end of the day, but the thoughts of the dream never leave me. They especially don’t leave me when I’m called to the office.
Where will I be tomorrow?
Many days, I find myself pondering the thought of “Where will I be tomorrow?” I wonder this every so often on bad days. Days like, perhaps this one, the day my parents died. The day I was called at school from the hospital. I had just left 5th period and was heading to the next one when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“Hey, uh, Hanna Quinn right?” a girl with dirty blonde hair that’s pulled into a ponytail asks me.
“Yeah,” I respond wanting to hurry and get to class seeing as it was still pretty far and had less than a minute.
“You got a phone call in the office, I think it’s pretty serious.” the girl looks at me with her light blue eyes that are hiding behind her glasses.
I nod and start to head towards the office I turn towards the girl and smile, “Thanks.” She nods slightly before heading in the opposite direction hurriedly. I make my way towards the office grumbling hoping I would still be excused from class.
I knock softly on the door. “Come in,” says the light voice of the secretary. I turn the door handle and push, the door swings open slowly with a long creak. I give a slight comment to myself that they should oil the hinges before turning to the secretary and am slightly appalled. She has tear stains on her cheeks as she looks at me in the eyes and looks over my features.
“Are you okay Ms. Jones?” I ask and put my hand on her shoulder.
“Oh, Hanna, I’m perfectly fine, I’m worried about you, you have someone on the phone for you.” she looks sad as she tells me this and I start to panic, what’s wrong? I slowly take the phone out of her hand but before putting it to my ear I let out a shaky breath I didn’t notice I was holding.
“Hello?” I ask and wait for the person on the other line to respond.
“Hello are you Hanna Quinn, daughter of Martha and George Quinn.” a male voice replys on the other end.
“Um, yes, is something wrong? Who is this?”
“I’m a doctor at the local hospital, something is wrong. Your parents…” he trails off.
“What? What happened to them?” I ask my eyes widening and I can feel my throat becoming tighter.
The other line is quiet for awhile before he responds, “they passed away about thirty minutes ago.”
I can feel myself crumbling, the phone falls out of my hand, as the silent tears cascade down my face. As I break down. I fall to the ground, I can feel the soft plush carpet of the office underneath me but that’s all I feel nothing else. I have no relatives. My parents had no siblings and my grandparents are all dead. I’m an only child. Where am I going to stay tonight? Where am I going to live? Where am I going to be tomorrow?
That afternoon I am sitting at the police station, they were shocked when they found out I had no relatives I mean… who could blame them. We still haven’t found a place for me to stay for a while. The seats are surprisingly comfortable. I peer over towards the desk where a lady works talking into a phone. She seems frustrated. I strain my eyes farther looking for some type of ID on her maybe a nametag. I sigh when I finally realize there isn’t one.
“Um, Ms.? I was wondering if I could go outside for a little while,” my throat scratchy from all the crying I’ve been doing, it hurts to talk even. She nods toward the door that leads outside. I stand before slowly moving to the door pushing on it for it to open. I descend the stairs and look at the surrounding area. Downtown has a couple of trees scattered around but from it being the middle of winter no leaves are on the branches. The wind picks up and I shiver. My breath is visible from the chill.
I stare up at the sky, the moon isn’t full yet, maybe tomorrow, it’s partially covered by the thin arms of the surrounding tree. No clouds are in the sky making it easy to see all the magnificent stars hidden during the day. I sit down on one of the cold concrete steps bringing my knees closest as possible to me. My fingers feel numb but that’s okay I’ll go back inside soon. I’m losing track of time though. The stars are helping me think, the police haven’t told me how my parents died yet.
It’s been quite a long time since I first came out here, my fingers are still cold and I’m sure my lips are blue by now, yet I don’t want to go back inside. The cold is welcoming. I can see the frost thats forming on the window of one of the nearby shops. The lights are off, it’s not surprising though, seeing as how late it is. I think it’s the shop my mom always took me to as a kid, the candy store, that sold all different types of sweets. The police department is made of rough brick and the streetlamp keeps flickering giving the street an eery feeling.
Yet, fear never crosses my mind as I watch people pass in their cars. I stand up slowly, my body being reluctant as I slowly lift my foot and start ascending the stairs back to the door of the department. I reach up my hand and slowly grasp the handle pulling the door open before slipping inside trying not to let in the cold.
My eyes wander to the clock in the corner of the room, 11:53 P.M. I walk to the girls restroom, and turn myself to the mirrors, I become shocked, my lips are a light purple color and my face was red from the cold, I had tear stains on my cheeks. I turn the water onto warm and run my hand through it as suspected my hands are almost completely red. I retract my hands quickly as the warm water feels stinging hot on them. I dab them off gently on some paper towels before I turn the water slightly colder and splashed some water on the face.
I walk back into the waiting room and sit down. The lady isn’t here anymore instead there is a man in a police uniform waiting for something. “Um, hello, sir?” I ask the man quietly. He doesn’t turn to me.
“Hello, I am waiting for the secretary to come back so I can ask her some information on Hanna Quinn, please ignore me.” He says keeping his back to me.
He still doesn’t face me, I can feel me starting to become annoyed, “I am Hanna Quinn sir.”
“Oh,” he says slightly surprised, but it has a weird tang to it, never turning around. I can feel my nerves slowly going away. Yet, I can’t decide if I should be scared or not, what if he’s not actually a cop. The annoyance quickly diminishes as the thought sets into my mind and fears starts to rise. “Come with me.”
My legs feel like lead as I stand and shift my weight. The police man turns to head down a hallway. The department has become eerily quiet. I can’t hear anyone else in the building. I follow him only because I hear no one else and the idea of being alone is scarier than following a man that won’t show me his face. His voice is deep and has an odd tone to it. I keep a good distance from him so he can’t try anything funny if he’s not what he appears to be. There’s a picture in the hallway the glass so clean you can see our reflection, and thats when I see his face.
He has a scar running down the left side of his face. Yet, he doesn't seem to notice I saw. I can feel the feeling of fear rise and my throat becomes tight yet I can’t turn around. My body won’t let me, my legs are unwilling. The man continues walking. I stop and watch him as he keeps walking away, then he stops too.
‘He’s noticed I stopped,’ I think panicked, I turn and run out of the hallway, I can hear his heavy footsteps behind me as I make my way to the front door, I push on it as hard as I can before, he catches up to me. I make my way outside and down the steps, it’s not as cold as earlier with all the adrenaline running through my body. There is ice scattered in some places on the sidewalk and it started snowing since I was last out here. I am careful to make sure I don’t slip but it’s pretty hard when you’re in fear for your life.
It finally sets in, it’s midnight some creepy guy is chasing me that might be my parents murderer, assuming they were murdered, and the police are no where to be found. My legs start to become tired but I keep running my foot slips and, for a moment I am lifted off the ground and all my worries leave me before I can feel the hard concrete make contact with my body.
I groan from the impact my back hurts as does my ankle. I probably sprained it. I look at my surroundings, the man is no where in sight, but that fact scares me more than any. I look down at my ankle I can see it already bruising. There’s a wall beside me it looks like the post office building, I slowly pull myself up and look around again to make sure no one is there.
I can see the man he’s a good distance away and the streetlamp probably makes me invisible, I head behind the building and hide. He doesn’t seem to notice me as I slip into the alley and into the shadows. The man passes by in a limp, there’s a scowl on his face but his eyes are bright with excitement like he enjoys the chase.
A deep voice rings down the alley way, “Oh little Hanna, where are you?”
I can feel a chill run up my spine, but I have to stay quiet, I can’t let him catch me with how bad my ankle is. The pain is almost unbearable. The man stands in front of the alley for a little while peering inside, he doesn’t seem to notice me, but that’s when I get a good look at his face and what he’s wearing. The police uniform has a dark spot on it. I want to believe it’s coffee but I know all too well, that’s not what it is. I look at his belt, no walkie, no gun, no flashlight. Relief flows through me. I might be able to live through this. I slowly move behind a dumpster and crouch in case he comes further in.
I peek over the lid and watch as his shadow vanishes behind the other building. I don’t get up yet, I don’t know if he really is gone, I tuck myself further into the wall. When a hand clamps over my mouth. I try to scream and get away from the perpetrator. Well, not really a perpetrator because when I get away from them I realize, it’s an actual cop. I sigh in relief my hand goes to my chest trying to calm myself down.
“You really scared me.” I say out of breathe.
“Well, I didn’t expect to see you hiding there and I believe you’re the girl that was up at the department a little while ago, what happened?” the police man asked, he’s young, he looks like he just joined them, maybe a year ago. So I told him, from when I was outside up until him scaring me behind the dumpster.
He stood, seemingly shocked, “we have got to get back down there.” He grabbed my arm, not too tight to where it hurts, but tight enough I couldn’t pull away. We started to head to the front of the alley towards the street. Towards where the man might be. He could be sitting there waiting for me to show myself. I start to pull my arm from the cop not wanting to see the crazed look in the man’s eyes again.
Fear starts to encumber me. My arms start tingling, my legs feel weak, I feel useless, as the “policeman” keeps pulling me along and that’s when I hear.
“I found her, boss.” I look up and the “policeman” who was dragging me was talking to the man with a scar on his face. Dread fills me. I’m stuck in something I can’t get out of, I’m dead… I need to do something.
The sick twisted smiles on their faces, the grotesque thoughts they probably have in their heads. They killed my parents. That’s all I can think, ‘they killed my parents.’ The man with a scar on his face smiles, a murderous smile, before knocking me out cold.
Then, I wake up, it’s close to the end of 5th hour, not the much more until the end of the day, but the thoughts of the dream never leave me. They especially don’t leave me when I’m called to the office.
