Lost Hope
Alex Coleman walked away from the flames, his heart racing at what he had just done. The sirens and lights of the police cars was muted by the rain, which poured down in sheets. Shivering, he jammed his hands deeper into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the cold. Just as he was about to turn the corner of Oakmont Avenue, a scream pierced the night. Alex began to run, because he knew whose scream that was. It was his mothers.
He got out of bed. Tonight was the night. There was no turning back now. Slowly, silently, he crept past his parents' room where his mother, Mandy Coleman, lay sleeping. He went down the stairs, past the kitchen and the living room, down to the garage. Tonight was the night he had been waiting for. So then why was he scared?
He veered left, right, left again. Signs and streetlamps flashed by him, revealing glimpses of dark houses. Maple Drive, Pinewood Court, Ash Parkway-all were bypassed. The Andersons, where Jimmy lived, the Fents-he dashed by them too. Finally, he reached a dark alleyway, where he stopped abruptly. Panting, he looked around. Sirens sounded in the distance, closer than before. He quickly dodged into the alleyway, and began walking down it. Alex whipped around as several police cars and an ambulance zoomed by him. Shaken, he trudged on, with the rain pouring out of the heavens.
Alex looked around for a place to sleep. The alleyway extended behind and in front of him endlessly. The only thing in sight was a dented trashcan. With a sigh, he walked over to it and lifted the lid. Putrid smells wafted up over him. He let loose another huge sigh and heaved himself into the bin.
All around him there were half eaten apples, bread crusts, torn paper bags, eggshells, and other unidentifiable objects mashed together. He made a pillow out of a bag full of frozen garbage, and went to sleep. This was to be one of many long and treacherous days, but the worst was yet to come.
Alex Coleman walked away from the flames, his heart racing at what he had just done. The sirens and lights of the police cars was muted by the rain, which poured down in sheets. Shivering, he jammed his hands deeper into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the cold. Just as he was about to turn the corner of Oakmont Avenue, a scream pierced the night. Alex began to run, because he knew whose scream that was. It was his mothers.
He got out of bed. Tonight was the night. There was no turning back now. Slowly, silently, he crept past his parents' room where his mother, Mandy Coleman, lay sleeping. He went down the stairs, past the kitchen and the living room, down to the garage. Tonight was the night he had been waiting for. So then why was he scared?
He veered left, right, left again. Signs and streetlamps flashed by him, revealing glimpses of dark houses. Maple Drive, Pinewood Court, Ash Parkway-all were bypassed. The Andersons, where Jimmy lived, the Fents-he dashed by them too. Finally, he reached a dark alleyway, where he stopped abruptly. Panting, he looked around. Sirens sounded in the distance, closer than before. He quickly dodged into the alleyway, and began walking down it. Alex whipped around as several police cars and an ambulance zoomed by him. Shaken, he trudged on, with the rain pouring out of the heavens.
Alex looked around for a place to sleep. The alleyway extended behind and in front of him endlessly. The only thing in sight was a dented trashcan. With a sigh, he walked over to it and lifted the lid. Putrid smells wafted up over him. He let loose another huge sigh and heaved himself into the bin.
All around him there were half eaten apples, bread crusts, torn paper bags, eggshells, and other unidentifiable objects mashed together. He made a pillow out of a bag full of frozen garbage, and went to sleep. This was to be one of many long and treacherous days, but the worst was yet to come.