❝Someone stole my house!❞
❝I'd advise you to calm down, sir and tell me exactly what happened.❞
❝They lifted it off the ground and took it away! Call the ambulances, the fire brigade, the police!❞
❝I think I should give the Mental Institution...
❝I'd advise you to calm down, sir and tell me exactly what happened.❞
❝They lifted it off the ground and took it away! Call the ambulances, the fire brigade, the police!❞
❝I think I should give the Mental Institution a call...❞
❝I do not need the Mental Institution! I need someone to get my bloody house back! And you call yourself the Emergency Services!❞
❝Stop complaining sir and address to me what happened. Exactly!❞
❝A man punched me to the ground and lifted the house away!❞
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Lizzy put down the phone down again, her head spinning, with a mass of nagging voices from the previous calls that morning. She didn't know what was wrong, but he always called, this being the third reported call this morning. Lizzy reclined back in her chair, she wanted to help him, but she had no idea how. She was only here part-time, only so that she could pay for her university bills, but ever since this one boy called, her life has become a bit more.... interesting.
She was stuck to answering his calls because all of the other workers needed to handle the 'real' problems. But to Lizzy, it was a real problem and a big one at that.
A house couldn't get stolen, a man couldn't get turned into a dog. The poor boy was saying the most ridiculous of scenarios. She wanted to think it was a silly joke. But she couldn't say that: not just yet, the same person came from multiple phones, the public telephone booths on the corners of streets. He put in different names, names that most definitely did not exist in Manhattan.
She wanted to figure out who the person was, that always called 9-1-1.
