Gone Astray

Crossing to the small maple table he picked up a stack of envelopes resting on the napkin holder and discovered each addressed and stamped, December’s bills. Esther traversed the hallway checking room by room. She gingerly stepped into her mother’s room and disappeared for a moment before emerging with a cell phone in her hand. “Mother’s not here,” she whispered, more in thought than announcement. Purring loudly, a huge orange tabby circled her feet brushing the snow from the hem of her coat.

She stepped of the porch into the house to help the movers by telling them where she wanted the furniture to go. When she stepped into the kitchen she stopped in fright, out of the corner of her eye she swore she saw a human shaped shadow. When she looked over it was gone and a trash can stood in its place. She got her self together walked to the car and grabbed the box full of china that her grandma gave to her on her 16th birthday. She walked across the dining room and sat the box on the table.

“Did you finish your history project?” She nagged her as she tried to jam the key into the door of her classroom on the first try. “Almost,” Scarletta said, “I just need to add the finishing touches.” “Alright, then,” Mrs.Evered approved as she opened up the door into the history room, a dark space covered in deep reds, dark browns and ancient yellows that reeked a chill, musty air. They stepped inside, and Scarletta dropped down a bag that was always a little to heavy and cumbersome. She pulled out her French binder and looked over her vocabulary words for the quiz. Mrs. Evered left to fill up her coffee cup.

Wondering if the tips were because of her unbuttoned shirts she looked down to make sure she is well advertised. “Shit, where-” Before finishing her sentence she found her tablet. She had planned on reading a new book she had downloaded until Becky called and ate every possible minute of the night up. Gathering the rest of her essentials and stuffing them into her back pack she quietly waited. “Sorry again Jenny,” the voice called out closing the door.

The Lucite clock from Fortunoff's glowed a red 11:37. Should he call the child's mother? The thought made his fingers grope for the receiver and lift it to his ear. Moments later, it slid, unused, gently back on the cradle. Kimberly Addison slept peacefully.

Atkin pulled open the door to her office wondering where Mike had gone. It was four forty five, he was not at his desk, and they had plans to discuss Elizabeth Tomes and todays revelation. Perhaps he had gone for a bathroom stop, she thought. Atkin reached around the wall and flicked on the light switch, unaware of the man hiding against the wall. His presence brutally announced when a strong hand grabbed her arm and yanked her forcibly into the office.

Walking down the hall she peered into the bedroom and saw he was still sleeping. Opening the door slightly more hoping today wasn't the day a creak made its way into the hinges. Looking at the clock beside him she saw it was almost 5:30am and tip toad silently through the room looking for her jeans. Spotting them on top of a pile of clothes on a little wooden antique chair she carefully knelt down to grab them. Putting her right leg into the pants she gritted her teeth while forcing it through.

Her apron hem caught by a gust of wind blew out behind her and settled back with the ruffle inside out across her peasant skirt. “You can pull the car around to the back as soon as I unload.” “Dear, I really don’t want to do that.” Lydia straightened to her whole 5’2 inch height and looked up at her daughter. Lydia’s wire rim glasses slipped down her nose and she tilted her head back awkwardly to look through the bi-focal at Esthe... ... middle of paper ... ...h and looked at the washer and dryer setting side by side. The coffee pot sat on the washer. It would never do for the bottle to sit it out in the open beside it.

Briefly distracted, she unlocked her phone—it read: “MESSAGE TO ALL CONTACTS. I found a set of keys on my kitchen floor after the party, anyone lost theirs? If so phone/text me back ” She soon heard the stalkers voice in the distance once again. Her heart skipped with an overwhelming feeling of doubt. Could the dropped keys be hers?

“I’ma go and check my ask.fm and Instagram.” Alicia said going into her room with her phone. I let out a disappointed huff and slumped down on the couch. After what felt like forever, the cable guy reappeared. “There’s a slight problem.” He said clapping his hands together. “And that would be?” I asked without making eye contact.