I'm sitting in the library, watching a little boy and a little girl running around screaming.
Their mothers talk by the desk; the library lady looks as though she's about to tell the kids to shut the fuck up. That makes me smile.
My alarm clock on my phone vibrates in my pocket, I quickly reach in to shut it off.
Too late though, the library lady heard.
I wave a small goodbye before getting up, gathering my things and making my way back home.
Home. If you could call it that.
As I'm walking down the street, I take note of the ambulance horn blaring as they speed down the road.
Well, someone's in deep shit.
Plugging in my earphones I keep walking, taking note that it's 12:34 pm meaning I have 6 minutes to make it back.
Somehow, I manage it in 3.
I take out my earphones again, looking up and watching as the paramedics walk out of the house with one of those carrier things where they lay the dead people.
Wait.
Picking up my pace, stop at the gate, and look up to find Pogo looking at me as though I personally killed his dog, mom stands behind him looking as though it's a normal day.
"Pogo?" I question when I make it to the door, "what's going on?"
He sighs, "this morning after you left to go to the library your father had a heart attack."
Every bone in my body freezes, "he's dead?"
"I'm sorry, Number Eight."
I sigh.
And so, it begins.
YOU ARE READING
Number Eight
FanficIvy Hargreeves has a mission. The world is on the brink of extinction and as a final task set by her father, she has to restore it before it's too late. As Ivy reconnects with her siblings and pieces of her past, she wonders whether she can move fo...
