Disclaimer- I own none within. Actually, I own everybody but John and his
powers.
Author's Note- You may have noticed I'm not using the accent nearly as much. It's easier and faster to write this way, and I found it kind of better to read too.
Chapter Nine- Nothing
"But, but," Susan stuttered. "You-you haven' found anything?"
The man shook his head sadly. He rubbed a finger over his thin, black mustache that matched perfectly with his neatly parted black hair. "No, I'm sorry ma'am."
"Nothing?" Steve asked, still not believing the formal man in front of him.
"Nothing, sir," the man repeated.
"But, Mr. Robinson, you, how can you, how can you not 'ave found anything?" Susan asked desperately.
"Sometimes, these things take time." Mr. Robinson stated, absentmindedly brushing the shoulder of his crisp, black pinstriped suit.
In the corner of the office, Chris and John sat on the black leather couch. Chris wrapped his arm tightly around John's shoulders, showing his younger brother affection that he rarely did. Under the circumstances, some things change.
Susan sighed. She paused for a moment, silent as the grave, and then slowly turned towards her two sons. John licked his dry lips nervously. It was his entire fault.
"Chris, John," she said, her voice a little bit croaky, "Please go wait out in the waitin' room. Go wait out with Mick. They must feel awkward."
"But Mum!" Chris exclaimed, and instinctively his arm around John tightened, and John became mildly alarmed.
"Go now," she said firmly, pointing a bony and sallow finger towards the door. Slowly and very reluctantly, both of them rose in synchronize, and walked shakily out the door.
Mick rose immediately once they saw them both enter.
"Is everythin' awlright?" Mick asked, looking worriedly at the both of them, "Did they foind anythin'?"
John shook his head and collapsed in a much harder and more uncomfortable chair.
"No," Chris sighed, and he began to blink rapidly. Mick, feeling very sorry for his best friend that was more like a brother to him, walked right up to him and embraced him. Losing all composure, Chris broke down and cried in his friend's shoulder.
John sat nearby, his hands folded together between his knees. His head bowed, John stared at the floor, thinking about everything that had happened at the beach. Who would have taken Irene? If she wasn't kidnapped, did she run away? And why?
There were people near the spot where she had left her. An old couple, a young couple, a couple with their toddler son. No one that seemed suspicious to John. She wouldn't have ran away, he had told her to stay right where she was and if she needed anything he showed her where he would be so she could tell him what she wanted.
It didn't make any sense.
Who had walked by? Perhaps it would have been a person who just walked by casually, picked his three-year old sister up, and walked off with her? John didn't remember anybody; he had his back facing her. He had been busy collecting seashells and building his sand castle.
When he checked on her that one time he remembered seeing out of the corner of his eye a pair of overweight middle-aged women, but he didn't see them as a threat. There had also been that nice blonde man that smiled at him. John didn't see where he had gone, but it didn't other him until now.
They had no idea what happened, and now the only thing to do was wait.
Letting out a moan, John rubbed his face with his hands and rested his elbows on top of his knees, suddenly exhausted.
Time couldn't have gone any slower.
It was nearly two hours later when both of John's parents exited the office and silently walked over to them. Without a word, they started to leave the building, both Chris and John with all sorts of questions floating around in their minds.
They crowded themselves into their car. Mick silently un-strapped Irene's car seat from the back and put it into the trunk so they could have more room in the back.
And then they rode back home, with one less passenger in their car than they came with. Finally, after being unable to take any more of the tense silence, John spoke up.
"So...what are we gonna do now?"
Susan immediately lit up a cigarette, her hands shaking violently. She hugged herself, rubbing the sallow skin of her arms as if she were freezing. She let out a shaky breath.
"We wait."
"Are," John said hesitantly, "are they going ta be lookin' for her? Like, flyers and stuff?"
"Yes," her reply came out harsh. John immediately quieted, not wanting to be on his mother's bad side. He had a feeling that he was already in enough trouble.
Hours later, they pulled into their driveway. Night had already fallen; a few stars peeked out from the clouds that had covered them like a thick blanket. The clouds covered the half moon too, and John idly thought that the sky must have been suffocating from all of the clouds that covered its beauty.
Without saying a word, John helped carry the towels inside the house, setting them down into the filled laundry hamper. He then went into his room, not bothering to turn on the light. Leaving the door open ajar, he started to undress out of his swimming clothes and into his sleeping ones. Padding silently across the worn carpet, he opened the window, letting the cool night breeze in. He sighed, walking to his bed and collapsing on to the covers, his limbs spread out. For what seemed like hours later, he finally drifted off into a light sleep.
John woke up to the sounds of twittering birds and the brightness of the sun in his eyes. He opened his eyes drowsily but immediately screwed them shut again, because the sun was blinding. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes with his fists wearily and then finally opened them. Sliding out of bed he walked over to the window, looking out at his neighborhood. The birds were still madly chirping, and John thought that they sounded happy, but he knew there was nothing to be happy about at all.
Dressing up haphazardly he jumped down the stairs two at a time and went into the kitchen. Pouring himself a bowl of cereal and milk, he began to eat. Mick and Chris ate silently with him. After they finished, Mick stood up, said that he had to be home, and left the house.
The phone rang, and both Chris and John jumped. Susan ran into the kitchen and picked up the phone at once.
"Hello? Hello?" she gasped frantically, clutching the cord between her fingers. Her face was etched with disappointment. Slowly she hung up.
"Nothing." She whispered, tightening the tie that held her robe closed. She walked out in a daze out of the kitchen.
John opened the refrigerator to put the milk away and found that there were less beer bottles in there than there had been before. Silently, he set the jug in there and closed the door, pretending that he hadn't noticed anything.
(END CHAPTER)
Okay, really short, and probably not as good, but I NEEDED to get this chapter out. I mean, it's been three months and a week. Isn't that crazy?! Next time I do that, slap me. This chapter was just to get the story going.
childrenwithblades- You reviewed this chapter with your old account. And you guessed the guy right. Thanks for your review!
Insanebunneh- No, not the wombaturgalur. Aren't you proud I finally got this chapter out? Go me!
Dont-eat-chunky-pudding- You're right, it wasn't my greatest. I'm glad to hear it didn't suck though. Thanks.
Anon(girl)- He was only watching a three-year old for about twenty minutes or something. But yeah, he's still too young. Thanks for reviewing!
AriKitten- No, I don't think they'll ever find her. Sad, isn't it? Thanks for reviewing. And CONGRATULATIONS! You are the 100th reviewer! (throws confetti around)
Starbryte234- I agree with you, there should be more about John on the web. I'm making the speech easier to read, meaning not as much stuff with the 'accent'. Like, less 'Oy's' and stuff. But there wasn't much dialogue in here, and I'm going to try to do that with the next chapters too. Thanks for your review!
Also thanks to- I Am The Anonymous Reviewer, Shadow-Spider, zephyr, Rena Lupin, la cour de belles fleurs, Wind Rider 2000, spookz13412, and Pauline L.
Like it? Hate it? Either way, review!
Author's Note- You may have noticed I'm not using the accent nearly as much. It's easier and faster to write this way, and I found it kind of better to read too.
Chapter Nine- Nothing
"But, but," Susan stuttered. "You-you haven' found anything?"
The man shook his head sadly. He rubbed a finger over his thin, black mustache that matched perfectly with his neatly parted black hair. "No, I'm sorry ma'am."
"Nothing?" Steve asked, still not believing the formal man in front of him.
"Nothing, sir," the man repeated.
"But, Mr. Robinson, you, how can you, how can you not 'ave found anything?" Susan asked desperately.
"Sometimes, these things take time." Mr. Robinson stated, absentmindedly brushing the shoulder of his crisp, black pinstriped suit.
In the corner of the office, Chris and John sat on the black leather couch. Chris wrapped his arm tightly around John's shoulders, showing his younger brother affection that he rarely did. Under the circumstances, some things change.
Susan sighed. She paused for a moment, silent as the grave, and then slowly turned towards her two sons. John licked his dry lips nervously. It was his entire fault.
"Chris, John," she said, her voice a little bit croaky, "Please go wait out in the waitin' room. Go wait out with Mick. They must feel awkward."
"But Mum!" Chris exclaimed, and instinctively his arm around John tightened, and John became mildly alarmed.
"Go now," she said firmly, pointing a bony and sallow finger towards the door. Slowly and very reluctantly, both of them rose in synchronize, and walked shakily out the door.
Mick rose immediately once they saw them both enter.
"Is everythin' awlright?" Mick asked, looking worriedly at the both of them, "Did they foind anythin'?"
John shook his head and collapsed in a much harder and more uncomfortable chair.
"No," Chris sighed, and he began to blink rapidly. Mick, feeling very sorry for his best friend that was more like a brother to him, walked right up to him and embraced him. Losing all composure, Chris broke down and cried in his friend's shoulder.
John sat nearby, his hands folded together between his knees. His head bowed, John stared at the floor, thinking about everything that had happened at the beach. Who would have taken Irene? If she wasn't kidnapped, did she run away? And why?
There were people near the spot where she had left her. An old couple, a young couple, a couple with their toddler son. No one that seemed suspicious to John. She wouldn't have ran away, he had told her to stay right where she was and if she needed anything he showed her where he would be so she could tell him what she wanted.
It didn't make any sense.
Who had walked by? Perhaps it would have been a person who just walked by casually, picked his three-year old sister up, and walked off with her? John didn't remember anybody; he had his back facing her. He had been busy collecting seashells and building his sand castle.
When he checked on her that one time he remembered seeing out of the corner of his eye a pair of overweight middle-aged women, but he didn't see them as a threat. There had also been that nice blonde man that smiled at him. John didn't see where he had gone, but it didn't other him until now.
They had no idea what happened, and now the only thing to do was wait.
Letting out a moan, John rubbed his face with his hands and rested his elbows on top of his knees, suddenly exhausted.
Time couldn't have gone any slower.
It was nearly two hours later when both of John's parents exited the office and silently walked over to them. Without a word, they started to leave the building, both Chris and John with all sorts of questions floating around in their minds.
They crowded themselves into their car. Mick silently un-strapped Irene's car seat from the back and put it into the trunk so they could have more room in the back.
And then they rode back home, with one less passenger in their car than they came with. Finally, after being unable to take any more of the tense silence, John spoke up.
"So...what are we gonna do now?"
Susan immediately lit up a cigarette, her hands shaking violently. She hugged herself, rubbing the sallow skin of her arms as if she were freezing. She let out a shaky breath.
"We wait."
"Are," John said hesitantly, "are they going ta be lookin' for her? Like, flyers and stuff?"
"Yes," her reply came out harsh. John immediately quieted, not wanting to be on his mother's bad side. He had a feeling that he was already in enough trouble.
Hours later, they pulled into their driveway. Night had already fallen; a few stars peeked out from the clouds that had covered them like a thick blanket. The clouds covered the half moon too, and John idly thought that the sky must have been suffocating from all of the clouds that covered its beauty.
Without saying a word, John helped carry the towels inside the house, setting them down into the filled laundry hamper. He then went into his room, not bothering to turn on the light. Leaving the door open ajar, he started to undress out of his swimming clothes and into his sleeping ones. Padding silently across the worn carpet, he opened the window, letting the cool night breeze in. He sighed, walking to his bed and collapsing on to the covers, his limbs spread out. For what seemed like hours later, he finally drifted off into a light sleep.
John woke up to the sounds of twittering birds and the brightness of the sun in his eyes. He opened his eyes drowsily but immediately screwed them shut again, because the sun was blinding. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes with his fists wearily and then finally opened them. Sliding out of bed he walked over to the window, looking out at his neighborhood. The birds were still madly chirping, and John thought that they sounded happy, but he knew there was nothing to be happy about at all.
Dressing up haphazardly he jumped down the stairs two at a time and went into the kitchen. Pouring himself a bowl of cereal and milk, he began to eat. Mick and Chris ate silently with him. After they finished, Mick stood up, said that he had to be home, and left the house.
The phone rang, and both Chris and John jumped. Susan ran into the kitchen and picked up the phone at once.
"Hello? Hello?" she gasped frantically, clutching the cord between her fingers. Her face was etched with disappointment. Slowly she hung up.
"Nothing." She whispered, tightening the tie that held her robe closed. She walked out in a daze out of the kitchen.
John opened the refrigerator to put the milk away and found that there were less beer bottles in there than there had been before. Silently, he set the jug in there and closed the door, pretending that he hadn't noticed anything.
(END CHAPTER)
Okay, really short, and probably not as good, but I NEEDED to get this chapter out. I mean, it's been three months and a week. Isn't that crazy?! Next time I do that, slap me. This chapter was just to get the story going.
childrenwithblades- You reviewed this chapter with your old account. And you guessed the guy right. Thanks for your review!
Insanebunneh- No, not the wombaturgalur. Aren't you proud I finally got this chapter out? Go me!
Dont-eat-chunky-pudding- You're right, it wasn't my greatest. I'm glad to hear it didn't suck though. Thanks.
Anon(girl)- He was only watching a three-year old for about twenty minutes or something. But yeah, he's still too young. Thanks for reviewing!
AriKitten- No, I don't think they'll ever find her. Sad, isn't it? Thanks for reviewing. And CONGRATULATIONS! You are the 100th reviewer! (throws confetti around)
Starbryte234- I agree with you, there should be more about John on the web. I'm making the speech easier to read, meaning not as much stuff with the 'accent'. Like, less 'Oy's' and stuff. But there wasn't much dialogue in here, and I'm going to try to do that with the next chapters too. Thanks for your review!
Also thanks to- I Am The Anonymous Reviewer, Shadow-Spider, zephyr, Rena Lupin, la cour de belles fleurs, Wind Rider 2000, spookz13412, and Pauline L.
Like it? Hate it? Either way, review!