He had managed to peek into Ashley's records without anyone suspecting, or
asking him why he was. He had gotten her street address, which surprisingly
was on the far, rich side of town. The cool air hit his face as he briskly
walked to his car. It stoothed the pounding (which had still gotten worse
since the punch) until he reached his blue car. Nothing extravagent, but it
got him around; that's all he needed.
Having written her address down on a small piece of paper, he had with him sitting on the passenger seat with his suit jacket, he pulled out of the parking lot and drove off into the dark, October night.
-
Her house was huge. She was stinking rich and he hadn't a clue. The house loomed high, white pillars around the double front doors along with a fancy garden that was now covered in a thin sheet of snow. The house was so big, he was almost looking for a parking lot, but instead cut the engine in front of the house, and made sure that he was at the right place. He was, weird.
Harry got out of the car and looked up at the house suddenly wondering if he had made a mistake. He had imagined some slum apartment with a beer guzzling father, but apparently it was about the opposite.
He rubbed his eyes and approached the front door, knocking loudly. A few minutes later, the door opened to a butler.
"Is Ashley home?" he asked in a low voice. The butler nodded.
"Please come in," he moved aside and Harry stepped into the house. The butler dressed in a black suit walked away and Harry looked around. He felt as though he were in royalty.
"Ahh, Hello there," a female voice said loudly, dressed in an expensive looking business suit as she entered the "living room" he supposed it was, holding some sort of fancy drink in her hand. He already found her annoying. He just wanted to find out everything was okay and leave, back to bed. His headache had to lift sometime.
"I'm looking for Ashley.. I'm her teacher," he clarified and told the woman who was most likely her mother.
"Oh that child. She's probably up in her room reading a book or some other nonsense," the woman scoffed and finished off her drink.
"Ashley you have a guest!" she yelled up the towering stairs and took a seat in a gold colored armchairm as she lit a cigarette. "My that child is so darn slow," she grumbled and puffed furiously on hr cigarette.
Harry walked in a small ways.
"Mrs. Whitmore," he started, but she interuppted him.
"Miss. Call me Rose. Mrs. Whitmore was my mother's name," she said and blew the smoke out of her lungs. If Whitmore was her mother's name, where was Ashley's father?
"Are you mrried?" he asked wanting to know who was beating the young girl.
"No, divorced, but now seeing somebody new. Ashley's father," she furiously smoked again.
Before Harry could say any more, Ashley appeared at the top of the stairway wearing faded jeans and a long sweater.
"What are you doing here.." she rasped in the same quiet voice.
"Ashley.." Harry started.
"Quit being so damned rude. He's cute," 'Rose' smiled devilishly and continued to puff on her cigarette.
"Is Ashley's father around?" Harry asked with a darkened voice and looked up at her.
"No! Get out of here!" Ashley almost yelled from the stairway and then she turned and bolted up the stairs.
"What is wrong with that child. Sometimes I don't even believe she's mine," Rose said in a stern voice and then yelled "Harold!"
A minute later a man walked in wearing black slacks and a pale shirt. His dark hair was receeding at the front and the rest was turning grey.
"For Chrisssakes, you needn't yell at me," he said angrily and then looked at Harry.
"Don't tell me you're attempting to take my daughter on a date," he then added in a dry voice.
"I'm Ashley's teacher," Harry responded bitterly now staring into the eyes of the man who abused his child.
"Well.. what the hell do you want, did that little brat dail another test?" he grumbled and crossed his arms.
-
He didn't get into a fist fight with that jerk but he had wanted to. He planned on calling the cops on the sick bastard, but would wait until morning.
In all the 'excitement' his headache had chugged along right through it religiously. He hadn't been able to ignore it. Not at even one moment.
Harry arrived back to his shit apartment and felt almost like a homeless man compared to the palace he had just been in. Oh well, that was the price he had paid deciding whether to go into teaching or law. He let himself in his dark apartment, locked it behind him and took off his jacket. He tossed his keys on a table and immediately walked to the washroom to take more pills. 48 hours for a headache was long enough.
Instead of just taking three advil, he took six along with 4 longer ones that looked like tylenol, but weren't. He washed the 10 pills down with another glass of luke warm tap water hoping that hadn't been too many.
Food. He should probably eat;he hadn't all day - but strangely he didn't feel the least bit hungry, and hadn't remembered feeling hungry at all that day.
Not doing anything else, he kicked off his dress shoes, took off his striped tie, loosened the collar of his shirt around his neck and laid down on his bed almost immediately dozing off or passing out - one of the other. He made up his mind then that if he awoke with the same headache, he would seriously go insane.
Having written her address down on a small piece of paper, he had with him sitting on the passenger seat with his suit jacket, he pulled out of the parking lot and drove off into the dark, October night.
-
Her house was huge. She was stinking rich and he hadn't a clue. The house loomed high, white pillars around the double front doors along with a fancy garden that was now covered in a thin sheet of snow. The house was so big, he was almost looking for a parking lot, but instead cut the engine in front of the house, and made sure that he was at the right place. He was, weird.
Harry got out of the car and looked up at the house suddenly wondering if he had made a mistake. He had imagined some slum apartment with a beer guzzling father, but apparently it was about the opposite.
He rubbed his eyes and approached the front door, knocking loudly. A few minutes later, the door opened to a butler.
"Is Ashley home?" he asked in a low voice. The butler nodded.
"Please come in," he moved aside and Harry stepped into the house. The butler dressed in a black suit walked away and Harry looked around. He felt as though he were in royalty.
"Ahh, Hello there," a female voice said loudly, dressed in an expensive looking business suit as she entered the "living room" he supposed it was, holding some sort of fancy drink in her hand. He already found her annoying. He just wanted to find out everything was okay and leave, back to bed. His headache had to lift sometime.
"I'm looking for Ashley.. I'm her teacher," he clarified and told the woman who was most likely her mother.
"Oh that child. She's probably up in her room reading a book or some other nonsense," the woman scoffed and finished off her drink.
"Ashley you have a guest!" she yelled up the towering stairs and took a seat in a gold colored armchairm as she lit a cigarette. "My that child is so darn slow," she grumbled and puffed furiously on hr cigarette.
Harry walked in a small ways.
"Mrs. Whitmore," he started, but she interuppted him.
"Miss. Call me Rose. Mrs. Whitmore was my mother's name," she said and blew the smoke out of her lungs. If Whitmore was her mother's name, where was Ashley's father?
"Are you mrried?" he asked wanting to know who was beating the young girl.
"No, divorced, but now seeing somebody new. Ashley's father," she furiously smoked again.
Before Harry could say any more, Ashley appeared at the top of the stairway wearing faded jeans and a long sweater.
"What are you doing here.." she rasped in the same quiet voice.
"Ashley.." Harry started.
"Quit being so damned rude. He's cute," 'Rose' smiled devilishly and continued to puff on her cigarette.
"Is Ashley's father around?" Harry asked with a darkened voice and looked up at her.
"No! Get out of here!" Ashley almost yelled from the stairway and then she turned and bolted up the stairs.
"What is wrong with that child. Sometimes I don't even believe she's mine," Rose said in a stern voice and then yelled "Harold!"
A minute later a man walked in wearing black slacks and a pale shirt. His dark hair was receeding at the front and the rest was turning grey.
"For Chrisssakes, you needn't yell at me," he said angrily and then looked at Harry.
"Don't tell me you're attempting to take my daughter on a date," he then added in a dry voice.
"I'm Ashley's teacher," Harry responded bitterly now staring into the eyes of the man who abused his child.
"Well.. what the hell do you want, did that little brat dail another test?" he grumbled and crossed his arms.
-
He didn't get into a fist fight with that jerk but he had wanted to. He planned on calling the cops on the sick bastard, but would wait until morning.
In all the 'excitement' his headache had chugged along right through it religiously. He hadn't been able to ignore it. Not at even one moment.
Harry arrived back to his shit apartment and felt almost like a homeless man compared to the palace he had just been in. Oh well, that was the price he had paid deciding whether to go into teaching or law. He let himself in his dark apartment, locked it behind him and took off his jacket. He tossed his keys on a table and immediately walked to the washroom to take more pills. 48 hours for a headache was long enough.
Instead of just taking three advil, he took six along with 4 longer ones that looked like tylenol, but weren't. He washed the 10 pills down with another glass of luke warm tap water hoping that hadn't been too many.
Food. He should probably eat;he hadn't all day - but strangely he didn't feel the least bit hungry, and hadn't remembered feeling hungry at all that day.
Not doing anything else, he kicked off his dress shoes, took off his striped tie, loosened the collar of his shirt around his neck and laid down on his bed almost immediately dozing off or passing out - one of the other. He made up his mind then that if he awoke with the same headache, he would seriously go insane.