8: Alone

137 9 0
                                    

Home - Henry Hall

❝When shadows fall and trees whisper day is ending

My thoughts are ever wending home❞


┌────── ☾ ⋅☆⋅ ☽ ──────┐ALONE└────── ☾ ⋅☆⋅ ☽ ──────┘

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.



┌────── ☾ ⋅☆⋅ ☽ ──────┐
ALONE
└────── ☾ ⋅☆⋅ ☽ ──────┘

LUNA
7:30 PM

Nancy flaked on us before we got to the football game earlier. I don't really blame her, though. She still hasn't heard from Barbara and I wouldn't want to go to a dumb football game either if I thought my friend was in danger.

I don't really think Barb is missing. She probably just had a doctor's appointment or she's sick, but I also don't think that she skipped. She doesn't seem like the type. Maybe she just didn't want to go to school because she's still embarrassed from last night.

Either way, I still have a project that I need help with, so I'm currently on my way to Nancy's.

Steve isn't with me, mostly because I don't think Nancy's parents would appreciate a boy in their daughters room, but also because I think he kind of freaked Nancy out during the whole Jonathan fiasco. I however wasn't freaked out, in fact, I would've broken his camera myself if Steve hadn't.

Maybe if Jonathan had owned up to being a creep, I wouldn't be as angry as I am, but if there's one thing in this world I hate more than creeps, it's cowards.

Walking to the large front door of the Wheelers house, I knock twice and immediately put my hands back into my pockets to shield them from the cold weather. When the door opens, I'm greeted with a older man with wide rimmed glasses and black hair that's beginning to gray.

"Yes?" he asks in a monotone voice as he leans on the door frame with crossed arms.

"Hi, um, I'm looking for Nancy. We're supposed to work on a school project together," I tell him blandly through my chattering teeth.

"She's not here," he responds in the same toneless voice. I'm beginning to think the frown lines on his face are permanent due to how absolutely mundane this guy is.

My eyebrows twitch down and my head tilts in confusion once I process his words. "Well, where is she?"

Mr. Wheeler turns his head into the house behind him. "Karen, where's Nancy?" he calls.

"Barbara's!" Mrs. Wheeler shouts back.

"Barbara's," Mr. Wheeler repeats to me.

Night Light | S. Harrington Where stories live. Discover now