Fallen (Fallen 1)

“Thank you.” I said as I slid onto the smooth black leather.

“You’re welcome,” said Jonathon closing my door. He climbed in turning the car and air conditioner on. The day was quite warm for October. He backed out and pulled into the exit line smoothly. He left the school easily and we were soon on our way home.

“So. . .” I began as Jonathon soared down the road. “Do you know of any open jobs around here?”

“Yes. But why would you need a job? Doesn’t your mom have one?”

“Yes. . . she has a job but I’m worried about her I don’t think she will be able to work for a while.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Jonathon asked clearly interested.

“I don’t know. You saw her yesterday she’s just acting weird. It’s not like her.” I said looking at my hands so I could avoid his questioning gaze. When I finally looked up we were in my driveway.

“If you need me before tomorrow morning . . .” He said handing me a piece of paper neatly rolled up. “Call me.” He said showing all his shiny white teeth.

“Thanks. I might have to take you up on that . . . Depending on how my mom is.” I said shuddering.

“If you need anything call me.” Jonathon said again putting emphasis on the word anything. “Don’t hesitate at all.”

I got out of his car grabbing my backpack. Jonathon got out too. He walked me to the door. I dug around in my backpack for my house key. Jonathon waited patiently. I pulled the key out and looked up at him. He had to be at least six feet tall, probably six foot four, compared to my five feet eight inches. He looked into my eyes and leaned closer.

For a moment I thought he might kiss me.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispered and his breath tickled my face. I closed my eyes and inhaled.

When I opened them he was already in his car pulling away. I waved weakly.

I put the key in the door, held my breath, and braced myself for what I might find.

Chapter Three: Help

The house was dark. I turned to the left going into the kitchen. I turned the light on and put my backpack on the kitchen table. “Mom,” I called.

I began to worry. Has something happened? I looked in the sink. No dishes. My mom hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch. No new packing boxes had been opened. Only the ones I had done last night. Had she even left her bedroom?

I ran to her bedroom banging the door open.

Surely, nothing bad had happened. Please, please, nothing bad.

“Mom!” I screamed my voice going hoarse with fear. She didn’t stir. I shook her.

“What?” she said opening her eyes.

“Are you okay?” I asked looking her over.

“Mhmm. Fine,” she said from within the mounds of blankets. I let out an inner sigh of relief.

“I’m going to go make dinner. You haven’t eaten anything all day. You must be starving.”

“I’m not hungry,” she mumbled.

“Well you’re eating. . . Whether you like it or not.” I added.

I walked out upset. Before starting on dinner I dug a glass out of the box and filled it with ice and water. I took it back to my mom’s room.

“Mom? You need to drink, you’re dehydrated.” I received no reply. I placed the glass on the night stand and left the room. I went back to the kitchen and realized I hadn’t gone grocery shopping. This meant we had zero food. Damn. If my mom had wanted to eat she wouldn’t have been able to. I let out a frustrated breath and tugged at my hair.

I dug my cell phone out of my pocket along with Jonathon’s number. I typed them in, my hand flying across the key pad like a bat out of hell. I felt pathetic calling him already. He’d been gone for like two seconds.