Sunday, July 12, 2009

Serial Sunday, Part 4...



You Lost Me...

A serial story
By MiddleMan

Part Four

Getting home after yesterday's events was thankfully quiet and relaxed, aside from his mother making a side comment about underage drinking and that she was glad that things weren't worse. She must have been saving these for when she was sure that Craig would be a receptive captive audience.

In his room, in the darkness, he contemplated the past events like a puzzle that had no border pieces and no box top to refer to. He knew that nothing that happened had a rational connection, but he couldn't shake the sensation that he should be seeing something else. That sensation was to last until he fell to sleep.

A few hours later he was awoken to the fact that his bed was occupied by an obstacle that occupied the space between his feet. Assuming it was the cat, he made an effort to flip it off of the bed with his foot, but found that the weight was much more than feline mass. He opened his eyes to find his sister staring at him.

"Ah good, you're not dead," she said as she pushed his foot away from her leg, "Linda's here."

He rubbed his eyes with the back of his fingers, and blinked at her, "Why didn't you just call me or shake me awake?"

"Didn't know what would happen," she shrugged, "What if you sat up to quickly and your brains fell out of your nose? Mom probably would've made me clean it up."

Craig laughed at this absurdity, "Aww, I think my little sister is concerned about her big brother." He made cooing sounds as he sat up and lunged to hug her. As he expected, she dodged the attempt while screaming, "FREAK! Just get up and get downstairs so Linda can see you!" She slammed the door on her way out.

Changing out of his shorts into his jeans and t-shirt, he strained to remember what Linda had said the day before. He knew that she wanted to talk to him, but couldn't exactly remember what her mood was. He hoped that she had forgotten as well.

He didn't believe it for one minute, but one could hope.

As he got downstairs he saw Linda on the couch, nervously flipping through his mom's photography magazines. "Hey, Love. You wanted to see me?" he asked as his feet neared the last few steps.

She dropped the magazine she had in her hands and stood up, tripping as she tried to make it over the coffee table in one action. "Oh, I'm sooo sorry that you got hurt because of me!" she apologized as she righted herself. He put his hands around her when he got to where she stood, "What are you talking about? You didn't cause someone to attack me."

Her blue eyes were wet with tears as she hugged back, "No, if I hadn't made you rush over because of my doubts, you never would have gotten into that at all!"

Craig couldn't help looking at the celling when she said that. She did find out about him and the Bitch, and now she was going to let him have it.

"Look, it not what you think..." he started.

"No, it isn't," Linda interrupted, "It's worse. I don't know what I want to do."

"We can get through this. Really, Love, it's just a stupid mistake."

"That's right!" she cried, "I mean, why am I looking into colleges anyway?"

Craig was taken aback by this; Linda did nothing but go on about going to college for all of the time they had been going out. Even chiding him about his choice of "taking time out to find himself" when they had their occasional tiffs. This wasn't like her at all.

Before he could clear this up in his head, they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Craig excused himself and walked over to the door. He opened it to find Detective Dakins standing off to the side of the porch. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was hoping to have a talk with you if you were up to it," the detective's deep voice rumbled.

"This really isn't a good time. Can it wait?"

"Well normally I'd say yes, but a couple of things have come up. First: we found your bike and some of Mr. Pearson's stuff next to it a mile from where you were attacked. Also: there's something else you might want to know about..."

Craig tried to suppress a groan, "What else?"

The dark-suited man moved to the other side of the porch, revealing a familiar red-headed figure trying not to look up at Craig.

"She's been waiting outside your house for half an hour," the deep voice informed, "You know her?"

Craig felt his headache coming back with a vengeance...


Ok, getting back on track. Will post more soon...



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