I stare down at my ripped up shoes as they scrape against the pavement. Is karma causing this? If I complain to my mom, she most certainly would have said something along the lines of, "Life's a b***h. Deal with it, honey." Ah, my mother.
Thank God my house is practically in the school's backyard, because it's freezing. One of the things I hate about living in Colorado is winter. It's early December, and the temperature isn't that much lower than average, but when you have only a sweatshirt on, a little gust of wind chills you to the bone. I shove my hands into my pockets to spare my fingers from the cold.
It feels like I'm walking for eternity in a circle. Right when my fingers and toes are about to give way to frostbite, my house appears. At first, everything looks the same. Yet something causes me to do a double take. I pull my eyes from where I'm walking for a moment and I almost trip over the curb. Something feels different. My brain is probably playing tricks on me, but I could swear my house seems...darker. I shake my head, and rifle through my pocket for my keys. I make my way up the front steps and finally fish them out of my pocket. My mom always locks the door even when she's home. An extra precaution, she says. From what?
I insert it into the lock and twist before pushing the door in. I step in and swallow hard. None of the lights are on in the house. Yet the cars are still in the driveway, which means my mom has to be home.
"Mom?" I call out into the seemingly empty house.
Silence.
"Mom? Dad? If this is some twisted joke, it's not funny! I've had a bad day." I say, hoping to call them out with self-pity. Still nothing. I furrow my brow and walk all the way into the house. I turn on the lights in the kitchen, looking around for a note or anything. My mom wouldn't just leave. She doesn't do that. She rarely ever lets me stay home alone, and when she does, she leaves me a list of do's and don'ts. But there's nothing. Not a hair out of place. Deep down, I know I'm supposed to be angry because we're missing the theater grand opening, but that thought is quickly buried.
I set my backpack on a chair by the table and do a quick walkabout around the house. My mom's not home. My dad's not home. Their cars are here. Everything is locked like it should be. Oh, my God.
Where are they?
Where do you think her parents went? Are they simply out for a stroll, or is it more than just a coincidence? Chapter 6 will come tomorrow! Keep an eye out for it! Thank you!
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Subject #013 | ✓
Teen Fiction"I'm only going to ask you one more time." I say firmly. "Who are you and what do you want with me?" He frowns, and I tense, waiting for a blow, but none comes. I really need to shut my big mouth. "Apparently, I'm not nearly as famous as I thou...
