Sunday Girl

2 Parker

...

Just a few more hours and the sun will be out again. He thought. Just a few more hours and it'll be morning but he still hasn't sleep even just a single wink yet. The rain had long since stopped, just moments before the skies turned completely dark. He rolled to his side, trying to get even just a few hours of shut-eye.

One..
Two..
Three..
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Minutes have passed but he still wasn't asleep, in fact he was far from it. Outside, the sky was still dark no doubt and the wind will be almost bitter cold. But his restlessness, his consciousness was a fire on it s own, keeping him awake and his senses wild. He sat up. His skin was  profusely sweating that his shirt was stuck on his skin,totally unlike what had happened yesterday.Parker was lucky he came home dry amidst the heavy rain, but his day had been as dry as his clothes. Nothing special and very anticlimactic. Just a whole morning spent on an old library on the other end of the city. Normally, he wouldn't have had mind it, but he promised himself that he would get himself into some kind of adventure that summer. Something totally unexpected and totally away from the eyes of his social circle.

But nothing, nothing really happened, except for the fact that he spent his morning in an old library and  was stuck to that artsy cafe or whatever that was by the afternoon.He thought about the happenings of that day. 

He could almost see it all.The rain was pouring harshly, It was beating everything that wasn't under a roof.

In his mind, he saw the strange red brick walls and the old asphalt road. How strange, he thought.It was supposed to be the first day of summer but the rain was so strong. He had an umbrella with him, but he knew better than to brave the rain without knowing where to go next with only his satchel and the flimsy poor excuse of a sun-and-rain-shield contraption in his hands. He'd just have to stay alone in this old waiting shed. Sure there was a bench, but it reeked of a certain pugent smell he didn't bother knowing what.

And he thought he'd have his adventure.

Good thing that the drainage was pretty functional, or else it would have had flooded and he would have to run somewhere higher. Somewhere higher, somewhere outta here, he mused. Somewhere he could be alone, yet also comfortable. His room perhaps? No. Somewhere far away.

A strange sound momentarily caught his attention. What is that? He thought. Amidst the heavy rain, he heard it. A low noise that became nearly nondescript as it played alongside the rain tapping on the road.Naturally, his eyes darted to and fro, looking for the source of the sound. But there was nothing here. He turned around. His mind soon was filled with exaggerated images of bombs and explosions.

What if someone had planted a bomb right here and it's about to explode now? He heard stories about this part of the city but he knew the scenes in his mind were far too wild. From his friends at that private school he went to,he had heard much about bombs that were dropped on plain grounds just like that thing that fell literally straight on his shoes. His heart skipped a beat as soon as the thing bounced off. Shoot, he said. I thought it was a bullet or something. A silent,stray bullet.

He picked it up and noticed three peculiar things about it. It was a tiny plastic doll made to look almost like a ballerina,but a glaringly hole slightly large for it's size was at where the ballerina's chest should have been. It was old, but it wasn't ratty. It had hair rooted into a bun and it's tutu was made up of an old fabric that looked decades old from the dirt it collected. Paint and crayon marks decorated its flimsy plastic legs.But what was more stranger than the ballerina was the strange tabby huddled up in a box where the shed's foundations meet, just below the roof.