inmypulse
"It was!" The girl screams at me, voice wavering slightly. I assume the only thing holding her together was determination. "My sister wouldn't just- just off herself like that." I sigh deeply, deciding it was late, began ushering her out of my office. As I opened the door, the silver plaque on my door reading 'Detective Jack Sterling' glinted in the light of the evening. "The gun was in her hand, the room locked. Believe me we know the difference." Elle, I think that was her name, looked around frantically, trying to form words that wouldn't come.
"Look." I say, brushing the fatigue from my eyes. "I'll look over the files again, and if anything sticks out, you'll be the first to know." She knows I'm lying. She knows as soon as I've said it, and as soon as she knows the look in her eyes kills me.
The wooden door creaks as it follows her out, gentle tones mixed with the ragged sigh of the young detective.
I winced. Spit flew into my face. "YOU LITTLE- IT'S ONE THING, ONE SIMPLE THING!" The grinding jaws of my PE teacher is the only thing in my sight, purely because they opened wide enough to fit a dog in there. I make no effort to apologize, half of the reason knowing it would be dismissed if I tried, the other half the only thing I was sorry for was myself, having to go through this.
Mind you, it would just be the same next week. I could never regret getting out of PE by 'forgetting' my kit.
Footsteps came from all around, but there was only one figure ahead of me. Their hair was long, yet their stature was male. A voice called out, I think it was mine. "Excuse me?" A scream called out, definitely not my own.
Three long strides brought me towards the sound, brought me to be kneeling beside the collapsed man. I felt the blood on my hand as I touched his side. It quickly surrounded us. The footsteps faded out.
A small snoring came from her cradle. Not loud, faint, barely audible, but there nonetheless. The boy in the corner of the room, no higher than the cot, totted over to the breathing. His heels lifted from the floor and he rested his head on the wooden frame. "Hello sister." He whispered to the child, being careful not to wake her. He curled his fingers around her smaller ones. "I'm going to be the best big brother anyone will ever have."
The stage was set. My debut performance, and I was sweating bullets. My co-star gave me a small smile before going into full-out performance mode, voice resonating off the theatre as he sings about his love for the princess. How does he do it? Striding on stage with such vigor it made my head spin. My queue comes, and I step into the spotlight, nerves unseen under make up and costume.
“I am real.” I squeal, as my vision turns to white. The boy standing above me, what was his name? Mark? Matt? I don’t remember. He stares through me sadly, choosing to observe the gnarled chair behind me than my salty eyes. My eyes become unfocused. The boy’s silhouette is burnt into my retinas by the blinding light behind him. I think his mouth is moving, but I can’t hear him.
I hear a bell though. It rings loud and clear. My ears can’t pinpoint the sound. My eyes fail completely. The ringing surrounds me. The ringing comes from me.
writing since 2013 · 6 entries · 6 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Emma showed up.
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the words Emma reaches for
eyesboyvoicedoornamebehindlighthearloudsoundringingstageperformanceheadroomwooden