It was late in the night when my mother shook me awake. The first thing I heard was the sound of rain clattering on the metal roof, and my mother's voice crying,"Get up!"
I rubbed my eyes and stretched my legs before I got out of bed to see what on earth was going on. My mother had pulled out a giant suitcase from my closet and was throwing clothes in it, a sock here, a bow there, clothes for every kind of occasion.
"What's going on?" I said, my voice still scratchy and sleepy. I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and yawned.
"Your father!" she cried as tears ran down her weathered face. "He's gone!"
and with that she sat down on the bed and buried her face in her rail-thin hands. I'd never seen her in such distress.
I reached over and touched her gently, something I'd hoped would seem like a tender gesture to her, though I didn't mean it. Me and my mother did not get along well at all, but I still cared for her. "Gone?" I asked, suddenly awake. Had he been taken? I shook my head. No. No, of course he hadn't. My father was the leader of the Red Force. No one would dare take him. There would be consequences.
"No. No, they did not." I said.
YOU ARE READING
The Most Random Book Ever
RandomA book of random stories that I'll probably never finish. Some of them I wrote when I was nine and ten, so that explains the poor writing skills.
