Futuristic

Chapter 1

"Emily Robinson, please report to the main office, Emily Robinson."

I lifted my eyes from the math problem on my paper and looked over to my teacher, Mr. Lewis.

"Have fun."

I gave him a grin and stood up from my seat, a couple people raised their heads to look at me before returning to their work. I walked out into the silent hallway. Everyone else were in their classes, worrying about upcoming finals or thinking about what colleges were going to accept them. I had already received a few, but was still waiting for a couple more.

On the walls were posters for clubs and glass boxes holding trophies that had to be at least twenty years old, seeing how dusty they were. The school building was much older than twenty, maybe more like around seventy, and it was really starting to show it's age. Rusty lockers, peeling paint, and cracked tiles littered the entire grounds.

After walking through a couple corridors and down a flight of stairs that led to the first floor, I walked into the front office. It was small, with a desk were a woman sat, Miss Turnington. Behind her were shelves filled with binders and books and a couple doors leading to more offices.

"Ms. Robinson, I have your mother on the phone."

I frowned in confusion, why didn't she just text me? I picked up the cordless phone, and turned away from the desk.

"Mom?"

"O-oh honey," my mom said, sobbing into the phone.

"Mom? Whats wrong?" I asked as I started pacing on the carpeted floor. What dad sick? Was there a car crash? My mind raced at the possible things that could have gone wrong.

"I-it's your gra-and mother," She said, her sobs breaking up her sentence, "She-e's in the ho-ospital."

My grandmother. The sweetest human on this planet. Whenever we visited her when I was little, she would bake cookies while I watched her from atop the kitchen counter. She would help me dress and brush my dolls or play with me on the swing whenever I asked for it.

"What happened?" I asked worriedly, "Is she alright?" I heard some murmuring in the background before someone took the phone from my mom.

"Hey honey, your father here."

"Dad, what happened?" I asked again. I spied Miss. Turnington giving me a look from the corner of my eye.

"Your grandmother had a stroke, she's in the hospital right now."

I sat down on one of the chairs. "Is she going to be alright?"

"We don't know," He said with a sigh, "we're going to come pick you up, okay?"

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "Okay, I'll get a pass and wait out in the parking lot."

"Love you."

"Love you too." I hung up and handed the phone back to Miss Turnington.

"Need a pass?" She asked, even though she was already writing one.

"Yeah." I said, dazed at the prospect of my fiery grandmother being in a hospital.

"Here you go honey," she handed me the little paper.

I simply nodded a thanks before walking out of the office. Through the hallways, my boots clicked every time they hit the ground. They reminded me of a clock, of how little time we have in our lives. I quickened my pace and walked back into the classroom. I wordlessly handed it to Mr. Lewis and grabbed my stuff. But before I could walk out, Mr. Lewis called out my name.