The sunset could be seen in shocking shades of red and orange. I was walking along the highway, talking on my cell phone. The railing seemed to snake off in another direction while the road kept going straight. Should I follow the railing, or the road? I thought. Looking in both directions, I said into the phone, "Hold on, Miss Opal. I'm coming soon." and hung up.
I ran in the direction of the road. I was going to be late if I wasn't at Miss Opal's in 15 minutes. 15 minutes was not nearly enough time! With luck, I'd arrive at the house in half an hour. I had forgotten to tell Miss Opal I was walking along the highway. Ohhh nooo! I FORGOT?! I'm so stupid! I thought as I passed a slow car.
I burst through the front door, panting like a dog. "Sorry I'm late." I wiped the sweat off my brow. "You are very late, young woman." Miss Opal sighed. "I told you not to call me that!" I retorted. "An old lady like me can't remember!" She mocked. Miss Opal is 60. She has mostly grey hairs and somewhat frail skin. "I'll help in the bakery tomorrow. Again, sorry for being late." I walked upstairs into my room and collapsed on the bed.
"Someday, I should get paint and paint this whole room over. The wallpaper is peeling off." I muttered, turning to the side. "Or maybe I can save money and run away from here." I groaned. "I still want to paint over the walls, though." I curled up in a ball. Should I pretend the radiator is a fireplace? That the window is really an HDTV? That the walls are painted?
I remember that day. The day I met Miss Opal. Even though we got into arguments, we were still friends.
We sat down at a desk. Another woman sat down facing me. She folded her hands on the desk. "Your name is?" She asked. "Most people call me N." I said, staring at the ceiling. "Not your nickname, your real full name. What is it?" She asked again. "That's it. My real full name is N." I answered her. "Your parents never told you your last or first name?" She said dramatically. "No, N is my first and last name. They always called me 'N'." I answered plainly.
"So you've had to go by 'N' all of your life? What about your school papers?" She asked. "I've been homeschooled." I looked at her. "Do you have any friends or siblings?" She questioned again. "Listen, I don't get why you're asking me these types of questions. I'm a normal girl. I'm not psychotic, abused, or mentally challenged. I just want to go home."
The woman sighed. "That is, if you have a home to return to. Do you?" At this question, I looked to the side. "My house burned down." "And your parents? What were they like?" She got out a clipboard. I gulped. "My mom and dad were…" I scooted my chair back. "heroin addicts, I think." The woman nodded. "Do you have an addiction of any sort?"
I raised a eyebrow. "Why would I want to do H? That's how my parents died, anyways. They passed a few weeks before the fire." I scoffed. "They got what they deserved. I told them not to do it." The woman looked up at me. "You don't have any guilt?" "Why would I have guilt? It was their own decision, not mine."
After a few rounds of questions like this, I met Miss Opal. She brought me into her home, which was also a bakery. Since she was handicapped, I had to help her. We became good friends, and I became her employee.
Police sirens blared though my neighborhood. "Should I see what's going on?" I asked myself. The sirens were coming closer. "Maybe they finally rounded up that gang." I dragged myself off the bed and opened the window. I stepped out onto the roof and slid down to the ground using a water pipe. I looked up at my bedroom window. "I'll get back, so don't worry." I saluted the building and ran to the sirens.
*~*~*
I hope you enjoyed it! Please review! Plus:
- Anything that is like this is a flashback.
- The story is in N's prespective.
- Description of N's appearance will come later.
Word Count: 830