A Day In The Life - {Watty Awards 2015}

Chapter 16: I've Just Seen A Face (Melinda)

James handed over the single, folded piece of paper. I unfolded it carefully, nervous about what it might say, though somewhat darkly glad to have found another hint as to where Jeb was. A few strands of Jeb’s hair fell to the floor and, though I noticed it, it was not at the top of my mental priority list. I looked at the note, not sure what to expect. Despite my lack of expectation, what I saw surprised me.

“Clever Melinda, you want me to stop?

Clever Melinda, watch out for the cops.”

Just then, I heard sirens. James and I looked at each other for a stretched moment. We scrambles to grab all of our discarded belongings from around the room. The sirens drew nearer before shutting off. I ran to the stairs, hoping to reach the back door before they saw me. I was halfway up the stairs when the door opened in front of me. Instead of what most reasonable people would have told me or any blonde, female character in a horror film to do, I continued to run up the stairs.

I turned and, looking down the stairwell, motioned for James, who was staring at me in wide-eyed terror, to flee out the back door. He looked at me for a moment longer, then turned and bolted for the back of the house. I ran into the nearest room to the top of the stairs: a washroom. I mentally commended the architect for his ingenious floor plan and closed the door behind me.

Allowing myself a few seconds to breathe, relishing the sweet relief of my escape and thanking divine Providence for my room-finding luck, I realized that I had indeed not escaped at all. In fact, I had trapped myself more efficiently than the police had done by arriving. I pondered my utter stupidity for a moment, granting it permission to sink in properly. I had trapped myself in someone else’s house. I hadn’t the slightest clue of the floor plan and I had trapped myself in the washroom. I soon followed up this brief moment of panic with the realization that I had to get myself out of the lovely mess I had somehow managed to get myself into. I had to find some secondary method of escape.

Just then, I looked out the window. I watched James exit the back door and make his way around the side of the house. He stopped and looked back for me, waiting. I silenced my cell phone and texted him to meet me at the car, making sure he wasn’t seen. Shock crossed his face and he grabbed his pocket. He pulled out and checked his phone. As if seeking confirmation, he looked back at the house before turning to leave his hiding spot around the corner to creep stealthily through the gate.

As soon as he was out of sight, I began to hatch my great escape plot. Rather, I began to devise an escape plot which I hoped would be great, but would most likely be only barely effective enough to work. I opened the door very slightly, peeking not through the side by the handle, but the one by the hinges, which opened wider and more easily with less noticeable movement. Seeing that there were officers in the hallway, I silently shut it again. My only options were to wait or risk getting caught. If I were caught, then I would at very least be detained for questioning, though I would most likely be arrested for the whole case. If I were detained in any fashion, I couldn’t continue my search for Jeb and she would likely die. My only option was to wait.

I opened and looked out of the door again. It appeared that forensics was sweeping the house. I closed the door and looked around the room for what I might have to use which would not leave incriminating evidence. The towels, shower rod, and shower curtains were out, as they could easily retain DNA. I was left with no option but to wait or jump out of the window, which could potentially render me incapable of movement and, therefore, utterly useless in my pursuit. Besides that, it would be obvious that I had been there if I fell out of a window and was unable to escape. I would be detained for sure.

Again, I texted James. “Are you at the car?” The few moments to follow were nerve-wracking. My plan would, after all, only work if he had made it back safely.