AMACon Book 2 Extension

Runaway Prologue

Author: pattyboy1099

Prompt: "I found a stack of 'Missing Persons' news clippings under my parents' bed. All with my photo. I found my own suicide note. It was definitely my handwriting. It was stained with what could only be blood. It was dated three days ago."

Prompter: TTrNeo

It was 4:38 am in the early hours of that Friday morning and I was still on the other side of the road, patiently waiting for that pathetic excuse of a stoplight to turn red. The spring morning breeze of March was by all means, still winter; ruthless, harsh and unforgiving. And to take in mind that I was only wearing a hoodie with nothing inside and a pair of grey sweat pants my mom got for me at the local department store, it was like being stuck in a freezer, waiting for my untimely tragic end as I wait for that one light to blink green.

I stood in my spot for quite a while but in the end, I had to call it quits give up. Waiting for that stoplight to tell me when to cross the road was simply a lost cause from my 4:40 am perspective. As I glued my eyes to wait for that inevitable when, I realized how stupid I was for wasting my precious time on something so frivolous. Like it read my thoughts, just when I needed it, the diner across the road once again caught my attention as its lights started to provide more luminescence to the early hours of that chilly morning. I guess it was my go signal. I guess it was the when I've been waiting for.

I angled my head to my left then to my right to check if there were any approaching cars. None, as expected. And after a few seconds trivial deliberating, I turned back to the uncooperative stoplight—the direction of my 4:42 am disappointment, only to find a similar sight from the one I last laid my eyes on to a few seconds ago. A sigh escaped as it dawned to me. A sigh escaped me and it still remained red. I realized at that moment that it wasn't a matter of when anymore. I guess from the very beginning, it was about whether if I should make a run for it and go; leave the terrorizing shadow of the 8 story floor hotel towering behind me and just go, or not. And after the long 5 minutes of tapping my foot above the grey cement and rubbing my hands to keep myself warm, I decided to go for it and took one step forward onto the asphalt.

I carried my two heavy feet slowly with each step, almost like I was enjoying, savoring the view of the mundane bricked walls of the local bakery, the rugged cement sidewalks of 7th street or the blinking lights of the orange fluorescent street lights that stretched all the way down till the pavements of our city hall from a third person's point of view. Maybe I was, but I think I wasn't. As if the universe was pulling a huge joke on me, the stoplight finally turned green just when I was about to reach the middle of the road and to what fiddled me with disgust and intrigue, nothing interesting happened in particular. It was just me, standing in the middle of a desolate road, engulfed by a brumal breeze that I'd like to believe, pushed me a tad bit closer to the scent of the freshly brewed coffee coming from across the street. I wasn't that familiar with coffee. But I knew it was Espresso. I knew and I took a step forward.

The town I was living in was pretty much the epitome of orthodox cities in the big book of overly cliché-ish municipalities; we had a loving yet fierce, more-of-a-man-with-the-way-she-handles-politics woman mayor who supported same sex marriage and pushed laws that would make our city a more traveler friendly place. The way the city council dealt with internal affairs in regards to law, trade and commerce was recognized by national television and its citizens were the best supportive community one could ever ask for. We had a huge public park, a huge shopping center, a huge library and a huge reputation of being one of the best places to settle down in among all of the other cities in the country.