Sparrow

=Riley Zane_Gawking_--

"New murder cases connected to Innova's Lazarus Pill are skyrocketing in cities of the east- coast. Here with us we have... ,"

My eyes unfocused, and the TV continued without me. Lazarus pill, the old commercial jingle filled my mind:

OLD BONES ARE A NO SHOW WITH THE LAZARUS PILL (Lazarus pill...)

It was comical. Now the Lazarus miracle pill was just another hard drug. Another thing for people to kill eachother for. I sniffed, rubbing at my watery eyes. Mom had been dead for years. I had to move on.

Be strong.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and flinched. "Just me," said the calm voice of my dad. I closed my eyes. After a moment he said, "Are you still planning on making it to school?" My eyes widened.

"Ffff—" I began as I rushed out of the living room to grab my heavily abused bag.

"Fudge."

***

"HOW IS IT ALREADY 8:00!"

I grabbed my ancient, black backpack from its semi-permanent place by the front-door and shot down the sidewalk. I ran like my life depended on it. Then I crashed into someone. The world was in slow motion as we tumbled through the air. My head bumped against their chest as the spin came to a stop.

"Uh, could you get off me?"

"Oh, sorry, sure."

I picked myself up and stared sadly at the scraps of fabric that were once my loyal bag. The contents of it scattered across the ground. I looked up and opened my mouth to apologise. When we made eye contact, I realised I was staring into the face of an angel. Light bounced off his golden waves, creating an almost halo around his head. His eyes were the prettiest hazel.

And at that moment, time stopped. I closed my mouth and thought. Here I am. Gawking at the most beautiful human being I have ever seen in my life. My thoughts slowly spiralled into horror. This was the boy that I tripped over. Quickly picking up my things, I pushed past him, mumbling the saddest sorry ever spoken.

***

The school day passed in a blur. And near the end, it probably should've been concerning that I remembered nothing at all. But in all honesty, the only mentionable things that happened that day was the French teacher having a fit in 3rd period and club time which I was heading to at the moment. I made my way through the twisting hallways and stopped at the door with a brightly painted sign beside it reading:

                         "MURDER!" SHE SPOKE: TRUE CRIME CLUB

                                   SHHHHHH! DETECTIVES AT WORK

I entered the room, which is more of a glorified janitor's closet with how small it was. A blue shag rug covered barely any of the room. And an oversized table took up half of it. A whiteboard hung precariously by a single brave screw and was littered with heart-shaped magnets and pictures of random crime scenes and "murder related things" as Sam said. The other two members of the club sat on the ridiculously small carpet watching an episode of Criminal Minds.

"Hey! You guys started without me!" I dropped the tattered cloth that used to be my backpack and rushed over. Lying, belly-down, on the cold wooden floor. My two best friends suddenly seemed to find the tassels on the rug very interesting.

"It was most definitely not my fault," said Sam. Lex's head snapped up at her, his jet black hair hitting her in the face.

"YOU were the one who said." His voice went up a few octaves. "We should watch an episode while Riley gets here." he waved his hands dramatically in the air.

"I DO NOT sound like that!"

"Yes, you do."

"NO, I DON'T!" Sam shrieked.

Lex was smirking, knowing he'd won. I shook my head, smiling. We were a bunch of crime-obsessed crazies in here.

"Ok, detectives," I said, banging a gavel (stolen from Drama Club) on an old coaster. "The club is in session."

***

When I got home, the sun was already behind the trees that lined the right side of the sidewalk across from my house. I used a spare house key I had hidden inside the door-frame to get in; I had forgotten my copy in the morning's turmoil.

"Dad, I'm back from clubs," I shouted out.

I dropped my books by the door, knowing I'd get in trouble for it later and walked into my room. I stared at the digital clock on my nightstand. 5:30. The quiet of the house was making me incredibly uneasy. I laid down on my bed, ignoring my homework, which was still by the front door.

"I can't sleep." I thought aloud. My routine wasn't over yet.

Sitting back up I rolled off the bed, thumping on my carpeted floor with an 'oof'. I lifted the mattress and pulled a box, marked 'EVIDENCE', out from a hollowed box spring.