It was an old and lonely day. I looked out the window from my bed. I think it's about 5:00 in the morning. I hate that feeling when you know school is about to start in just an hour, but you try to ignore the fact. I curled into bed, wrapping myself in the cozy blankets. The rain hit my window, making an irritable sound. I thought myself to sleep. I though about everything that's happened so far. My Junior year of High school is half way through the year. Spring is just around the corner and the pollen polluting season is just beginning. Homework, I thought.
"Homework!" I whispered to myself. I jumped out of bed. "Shoot I forgot to do my homework." Still in my sweats and T-shirt, I got up and grabbed my bag, pulled out my binder and sat at my lightbulb-desk. Dumb English homework. I have to write a two page essay on Romeo and Juliet, the love Chronicles. I didn't even read the book. I thought about not doing it. That would be my sixth missing homework.
The alarm sounded again. Was it a dream? I picked up my head. Drool was on my binder and I found myself sleeping on the desk. Well that happiness lasted a short time. The alarm kept sounding. I took my arm and swung it on the alarm, ever so strongly. I could've sworn I've broken it this time, but the titanium lining was impenetrable.
It was 6:30 when I was finally done getting dressed. I looked at the two sentenced essay I wrote. I think it'll suffice. I rushed to school, somehow the time moved from 6:30 to 6:45 in a matter of seconds. I got on the bus and just at the knick of time made it to class. The rain came down harder than usual. If it continues, there'll be a flash flood for about twelve hours. I took my seat in chemistry class. The black desks, with metal faucets coming out of it, was cleaner than usual.
"Ieean?" Mr. Gimmick called. He can never pronounce my name right.
"Sir, it's Ian, Ee-yan, not Eeen.-" I told him. He ignored me.
"Rebecca, Kaitlin, Donald, Hamlet, Ethan, Sierra, Jack..." He continued to call everyone and with each one he accented them. English was never really his first language, judging from his accent. It was a mix of Irish and Italian.
I slipped into a daydream as I stared out the window. Everything about today seemed so off. The sky started to get dark rich. I saw a black cat with deep blue eyes meow. It looked at me crooked-headed, and then leaped from its spot. Looked back at me and then walked as if showing me where to go.
"That was weird." I said to myself.
"What was weird Mr. Kiln." Mr. Gimmick surprised me.
"Mr. Gimmick! I didn't see you there." I jumped back. Damn he caught me.
"It seems you were busy staring at the rain, because you've been staring at it for the past 43 minutes." He walked back to his seat. Two minutes until the bell! Wow, I was out for awhile. But it didn't seem like it. The bell rang, off to English.
The day was short and the rain never stopped pouring. It was like someone was crying. I shut the locker and picked up my bag. It felt lighter than usual, or I'm just getting stronger.
"Hey Ian, forgetting something." It was my old bully I haven't seen since elementary. What was he doing here? I never seen him around. He waved to me, my father's necklace. It had a tough black thread and three green crystals that dangled at the tip. Where did he get that from? And is that difference in weight I felt from my bag.
"Derren give it back." He didn't seem as tall as he did when we were back in elementary. He always took my things, so it's natural he was able to take this. But that's precious to me and I'm stronger now then I was then.
He started to run, laughing. As we ran past teachers, they looked bored and when they tried to tell us stop, they just waved stop, so sullen-like, it even made me feel a little depressed. We were outside, nearing the streets.
Before we got to the sidewalk, I pushed him down and took my necklace. I didn't see that he hit his head on a rock. It was bleeding. I thought it that the rain would wash it out. He was unconscious. I picked him up and placed him under a tree. He'll awake.
When I walked, I noticed where I was. This was the same route my father took to his job. I got really far from home. I put the necklace on. Down miles, I could see a truck driving fast. The light changed and I crossed.
As I walked I felt someone staring at me. It was a man with a clean shave and light brown hair, almost like mine, but mine was more towards blonde like my mother's. He wore an umbrella and a black coat. Everyone around me grew faceless, literally. Their faces were gone except for the one man I was looking at. I was hallucinating I know it. But everything felt real.
"Ian, I love you, remember that." The man's husky voice was soothing and I started to cry, for some reason. By the time I got to the other side of the road I looked back and saw the truck come fast. The guy.
"Hey! Get out of the way!" It was too late. The truck and crushed his body. I looked at the man. His eyes fixated to the sky and neck twisted. Blood gushed out of his body and you could see the blood stained guts. The horrific scene was everything, but a wonderful sight. Who was he? How did he know my name? I was staring in shock. People stopped to look. The rain poured even harder. Polices came and the ambulance. They covered his body and took him in. He was pronounced dead there and then. A detective officer walked up to me.
"Hey." He waved at me. His faceless face came clear. He was middle aged and he had crystal blue eyes. His shaved beard and nicely trimmed hair made him look younger. Soon everyone's face came clear. "Hey kid. Witnesses say this man spoke to you." He showed me a picture of the dead man. "Was this the man?" That was him. I was still shocked. The guy, he... he smiled right before the truck hit him.
The detective was wearing a long beige coat and a huge black umbrella, everything seemed so authentic. Why were detectives here? He took me under a store's umbrella. I was soaked, my hair dripped. The rain kept pouring. The scene was too perfect.
"This was the man I assume you heard speak to, right?" He looked at me and pulled out a smoke. He was acting benignly for such a serious case. He sighed. "Kid, can you help me out here. Why don't ya'? You're the only person we know he has spoken to in the last few decades. Kid!? Traumatized fool!?" He puffed smoke.
"I'm sorry, what? Why are you here? What do you want from me?" I asked him. He just looked at me and smiled.
"I assume you can." He chuckled and took me into his car. I didn't understand where we were going until we got to his office. I sat in a swirly chair. Still trying to process this; the detective was still smoking, staring out the window.
"I can what?" I asked him. He just said it. He never answered what I can do.
"Good" I saw his reflection on the window, he was smiling. "That memory of yours will come in handy. I predict."
"What? I thought you were here to ask me questions." I looked around. It was a regular office with an old VCR and shelves stacked with books, mostly dictionaries and unmarked missions. I knew I was still in my neighborhood because the rain was still pouring. He came from the window, threw his cigar out and sat down, arms folded. His were sharp.
"Yes I am here to ask you questions. To begin, What did he say? Do you know? Residential relations? Any acrimonious actions? Was he a sullen man? Did he smile before he died?-" He stopped. My eyes widened, how did he know? "I'm just kidding about the last part." He said, but he didn't look convincing.
"I don't remember." I lied. "I need to get home, it's late." I started to get up.
"It's only noon time. Take your seat, I'm not done speaking with you." He grinned. "You have to be into your job if you want to keep it, detective Ian."
"What?" I sat back down.
"Oh, I hope you don't mind being my apprentice for this case. You can't change your mind nor mine. Have a seat we aren't done. You should know, why I, we, were called." He looked out the window. I was confused. "He didn't die on accident, you should know, he was targeted. I, we, need to find out why. These people, they work as the mercenary mafia, killing and targeting specific people, so specific. And this man, he decided to speak to you for some reason. He did speak to you right?" He looked at me. I shook my head 'yes'. "Good. Now take back your seat. I wasn't finished." This day really is not going as planned. Everything was so weird and different. I swear I think I'm hallucinating. A detective? I don't know the first thing.
YOU ARE READING
Pessimism (Book One)
Mystery / Thriller"Ian." Mother's sweet voice called out to me. "Ian?" She called again. I opened my eyes. I could hear the warming sound of her voice. I knew she wasn't there. It was all just a hallucination. She died a long time ago, or at least that's what I was t...
