Control (On Hold)

Chapter 2

I don't know how long we've been running, but my legs are starting to get stiff.

"Do you hear that?" Wyatt whispers. I listen intently. I hear the rumble of a train fairly close. "Do you have the energy?"

I nod feebly, "One last jump."

I can hear the train getting nearer. As we run on, we come across a train splitting the road in half horizontally. Wyatt starts running alongside the train, and I follow.

"I'll get on first and help you up."

Wyatt grabs a bar on the outside of the train and pulls himself up and into the train car. I try to follow his exact steps, but I'm a little too short to reach the bar. Wyatt grabs my arms and pulls me up. I'm left dangling on the side of the train for a few seconds, and when I look down, all I see is water.

I lean against the wall of the train car, breathing heavily. I try to take in all that has happened today. I walked home from school with Wyatt like I always do. As I walked up our sidewalk, I noticed our front door was cracked open. I walked inside and called for my parents. No reply. I walked upstairs and opened my parents' bedroom. My mom and dad were lying on their bed with multiple stab wounds. My mom wasn't moving, but my dad groaned something I couldn't understand. I crouched next to him and held his hand; it was ice cold.

"Dad?" I croaked. His face was pale, and his blue eyes didn't seem as bright.

He stared right into my eyes and whispered, "Remember Honey, whatever happens, don't let anyone control you. You have a mind and a body of your own, and don't let anyone take that away from you. I love you, but you have to go. I'm sorry."

"Dad, I love you too, but I have questions," I said confused. "Dad?" I lightly shook his body. No movement. "I won't let you down dad, I promise," I whispered as I kissed his forehead. I had no time to cry, I had to do as my dad said and leave.

I went over to Wyatt's house and knocked on his door. He scanned me head to toe and saw the blood on my hands and knees. He knew what we had to do. He grabbed two backpacks and handed one to me. Somehow, he always seemed prepared.

"Let's go," he whispered.