Ring...Ring...Ring...Ring. My phone went off on the dining room table; today's my only day off in weeks, so I'm letting it ring out. Ring... Ring... Ring... Ring.... It goes off again. Sighing deeply; slowly making my way off the couch to grab it. Please don't be Jeff; he told me to take the day off since I've been picking up extra shifts for 3 months straight with sweaty hands grasping the phone nervously, shutting my eyes tightly before they can land on the caller id. Each feverish ring making my handshake sends my anxiety through the roof. Peeking at who the caller could be, to my relief, the caller id is an unsaved number, twirling around happily. Knowing that if it was Jeff, I would never say no to taking up an extra shift, renting an apartment is super expensive. Not to mention finding the time and money to afford my favorite hobby, preparing for the zombie apocalypse. There are two types of zombies: the ones who come back from the dead and those who are infected with a rabies-like disease that causes them to want to infect others. A duffel bag full of goodies would help survive the last days, like extra clothes, blankets, knives, and rope.... The violent ringing from my phone draws me back from my daydream, quickly swipe to the right answer before the screen changes.
"Hello," pressing the phone to my right ear.
"Hello is this Isabella Carter" an unfamiliar male voice spoke back.
"Speaking," this got to be one of those scam calls where they ask whether or not you need life insurance. But before uttering any words, such as I'm not interested, in an informative tone.
"Okay, I'm Doctor Benson from Queensdale hospital. You were listed as an emergency contact for Jane Carter, we need you to come down to the hospital immediately." What could that woman be up to?
"Yes that's my Mother I'm on my way now I'll be at the hospital in 15 minutes". With the phone still pressed to my ear, looking to my right, a pair of dark blue jeans lay on the floor. Hastily picking up the pants, shoving my right leg through the hole, stretching out my arms to position myself to push my left leg through the other hole. Hopping up and down, trying to also regain my balance.
"Okay, see you soon" Then the phone clicked. Finally getting my pants up, a bright red color catches my attention. A red hoodie thrown over the dining room chair with a big black stain is in the center. Snatching it up, raising my arms, I violently shove my head through the small hole messing up my small messy bun. Rushing to the front door and tripping over my own feet like a newborn fawn, at the corner of my eye, my keys hang on the black key rack by the front door. Almost ripping it off the wall when grabbing my keys, shoving them into my front pants pocket, with time no for finding and putting socks on, sliding on my black work shoes. Flinging open the door, and rushed outside, making a sharp left turn to start heading to the stairwell, almost forgetting to lock the door behind me. I slammed it and used my key to hear the heavy slam of the metal hitting the door frame, giving it a tug before making a sharp left turn and sprinting down the short narrow hallway to the stairwell in record time. It's good that my apartment is on the third floor, or there would be some trouble. I rushed down the stairs and used the guard rail to skip a few steps on my way down. Throwing my body against the stairwell door, picking up momentum again, I sprint through the small lobby, looking like a madman.
What could it be? What has she done now? What happened? All these questions filled my mind at once, almost overwhelming me. The last time we spoke to each other was the day of my high school graduation; we got into a huge fight as soon as we got home. I couldn't take it anymore! She expected me to spend my life picking up after her since she wasn't a responsible adult or a good mother. What mother wouldn't want their daughter to go to college all because she'll be lonely and there would be no one to take care of her. Moving a few weeks after taking up any that paid decently and was willing to hire an 18-year-old to support myself. Thankfully the hospital is only 15 blocks from my apartment, slowing down my stride and starting a slow jog. A sharp shiver rushes through my body, making goosebumps on my arms because we haven't seen or spoken to each other in 10 months.
YOU ARE READING
The Big Bad Alpha
Hombres LoboI still remember when it happened, the confirmation that werewolves weren't just a fairytale that existed. They lived under our noses, looking like and interacting with us, posing as humans. Though some people may have fantasized about how we would...
