Trouble in Tiltown

A day of Kat

  Kat's POV
After a few minutes of arguing, silence filled the quote filthy truck. My cheek leaned against the cool window as I watched the night sky.
"Did you throw that baseball at Laurence's window?" My voice spoke, still trembling with nervousness.
He contained a groan in his throat before responding.
"Not me. But when I heard you on the phone, I knew you were either sneaking out to hangout with Jerrick or Laurence." He admitted, his voice croaked.
"If not you, then who did that?" I wondered aloud. I felt his eyes glare at me for a moment.
"Are you calling me a liar?" He questioned me, sounding offended.
"No, no. Of course not. Just curious." I shrugged gently with my shoulders.
"Well, I agree with that ball," he pauses, "Don't ask, don't wonder." He said as we pulled into our garage. I never told him what it said. My dad walked in first before heading straight to his bedroom and going to sleep within a minute. I placed a seat on the rocking chair that my dad sat in on a daily basis after work. My eyes took a long look at it. Stained with alcohol and food from the past. We didn't actually have enough money to afford a couch like Laurence or Jerrick, so I had to share a chair with my dad. To be fair, he sat in it more than me. I stood up and turned on the radio that sat on top of the tv before sitting down again. A deep voice came over the radio, almost bringing me a comforting feeling.
"Hello late, late listeners of Tiltown. Do you have your coffee? Good." He greeted listeners. I sat upright in the chair, stopping it abruptly from rocking my body. Wait a minute, that's West, the radio man. I leaned my body towards the radio as I listened deeply.
"So this may come to a shock to you, but I have made some friends in the past couple of weeks. They're quite interesting. There's Kat, Jerrick, James and Laurence." My dark eyes widened painfully wide. I ran quietly to the phone and dialed Laurence's home.
"Hey." Laurence answered.
"Listen to the radio. West is talking about us." I admit before hanging it up and sitting in front of the radio.
"They're nice kids, really. Y'know, the town tells us not to ask and not to wonder. But those kids, those kids don't care. It's good to ask and wonder. It helps me not be afraid anymore. These kids help me have hope to find my son." As he finished the statement, his voice whined as tiredness attempted to take over his usual deep tone. A few moments of silence stayed on the radio but suddenly he had spoken again.
"Anyway, we have a caller coming in. What's on your mind?" West inquired the anonymous person.
"We will not give in. You'll not be getting them back." An abnormally deep voice spoke over the radio. It glitched in and out, but the voice was not human. My mouth opened slightly, not believing what I was hearing.
West cleared his throat, "Okay sir. Goodbye." I hear him click a button and the voice was gone just like that. As I felt my back began aching, I laid down onto the stained carpet and listen to West talking but before I knew it, My eyes closed eventually.

I sat in front of the door as my mother picked me up gently from the floor as tears streamed down her cheeks and onto the floor.
"I'm sorry honey, but I've got to go." She spoke as a little girl. My father's face turned red but not from anger, but from crying so much.
"Please don't do this to us." My dad pleaded with her while standing out of her way. My mother took strands of her long, dark red hair and placed them gently behind her ear.
Her caramel brown eyes held guilt in them, "I'm sorry. I need to leave this town and if you can't come with me, then I need to leave myself." She placed a pale hand on my dad's hand before grabbing her backpack of supplies. My little legs rushed to the window as I watched the lights on her car drive off and into the mist. My eyes continued watching until her vehicle just became one with the fog. My father ran into the bedroom and his sobbing was all I heard for weeks on end.

My eyes fluttered open slowly to photographs on my purple wall. I was placed in my bedroom. My eyes trailed over to the alarm clock and it read 8:23 am. The calmness I felt turned into worry quickly. I threw on a blouse with jeans and flats before finally putting my floral backpack on me. I walked faster than my legs could carry me all the way to school. I breathed heavily but luckily, I was only a block away from the school. However, once I finally met up with my school that's when I had just only then realized. My dad doesn't work on Thursday.

After school was finally over, I made posters at the library. I bit my bottom lip as I focused on the projects I was creating in front of me. As I finished the seventh poster, my eyes trailed up to a guy sitting nearby me. It had happened to be Jerrick. He kept his head hung low as a hoodie hid his wild curls. Once he noticed I saw him, he sat in a closer chair across from me.
"Your dad is missing?" He whispers to me.
I nodded, "He was gone when I woke up this morning." Jerrick took some of the papers that were still blank and undecorated still.
"I'll help you." He offers as he gets to work on the blank poster. I smiled at him as he focused intently.
I leaned in, "Thank you." I whispered as I saw a smile sneak onto his face. Besides the occasional shuffle of feet underneath tables and a pencil being sharpened, Jerrick and I spent all afternoon focusing on making posters.