The streets of London are wet and the skies grey as I quietly sketch, my peach tea nearby. There is a low rumble of voices throughout the café that penetrates my earbuds, but I do not mind. I continue to sketch, unsure of what it is I'm sketching, and just allowing my hand to run wild on the paper. I soon realize that I'm drawing a girl, maybe twenty or so, with shoulder-length curly hair and freckles along her nose and cheeks. Sipping my tea, I check my phone for texts. It is exactly 11:11 o'clock when I look up to see her sitting in the chair across from me.
I have never seen this girl before, and yet she is identical to the one I had been sketching. She taps her left ear, motioning for me to take my earbuds out. I do, pausing Spotify on my phone and setting them on the table. The young woman looks worried. There are slight dark circles under her vibrant green eyes and a mass of curly red hair is balled up on top of her head. She wears an olive green coat, ripped skinny jeans, and short black boots.
"You were drawing me." she says, looking at my sketch pad.
"I don't mean to be creepy, and I swear I didn't mean to, it just kind of happened." Her eyes go wide, and she mutters something under her breath, seeming confused.
"You need to get out." She concludes after a while.
"What? Why?" I say, frightened. Perhaps she's on drugs, or maybe just crazy. Or both.
"Your name is Karissa Marie Smith, and you need to get out." She lowers her voice, suddenly serious.
"How do you know my name?" I whisper.
"Never mind that. Please, just get out." She begs.
"Um....ok, I guess." I grab my stuff and walk out of the café, inhaling the scent of gasoline and rain. She follows me out, and begins to walk with me to the bus stop. Suddenly, I hear something from the inside of the café.
Gunshots.
Screaming.
I turn to the girl. "I suppose that's why I needed to get out." She nods solemnly. "Why me? Why didn't you save others?"
She looks at her feet. "I had to. You are important, and you need to stay alive until you serve your purpose."
"There were children in there!" I say, frustrated.
A tear rolls down her cheek. "I'm sorry." she whispers. The bus pulls up, and I begin to step in when she says "Until next time." and walks away.
YOU ARE READING
Random short stories
KurzgeschichtenThis is going to be a collection of just random scenes, stories, characters, whatever. I come up with random scenes or stories but I'm never able to actually put a story line with it or like the idea for more than a day or two. If you decide you wan...
