Chapter two: The first of her
He sat through his class motionless. A faint sound of people walking down the stairs and out of the room was at the back of his mind. His thoughts, which now seemed to be the only thing that could make Jamie feel real again, were interrupted by Mr. Mckee, (who had been minding Landon with a close eye of the past few weeks). "Son… Son!" Two rough hands shook him hard, and Landon's eyes opened. "Son, you've been sitting there not even looking at me through my whole class. Would you kindly tell me what your problem is?" Landon didn't asnwer, but instead grabbed his bag and ran out the door. Mr.Mckee shook his head. "I don't know what's going on in that boys head", he mumbled.
Landon hated the way his teacher called him son – it reminded him of his dad. He had been at the funeral because Landon and Jamie were both thankful when he got that special treatment for her when she had fell ill a year ago. But the funeral had been 1 or 2 weeks back. Landon's dad liked to think that his relationship with his son had moved forward, but Landon wouldn't forgive him for abondoning his mother and her.
The front of his old house was plain and simple – no elegance or grace. Just plain jib boards and iron roofing. As he knocked on the front door ( a door that needed serious re-painting), he glanced behind him. It was very quite, almost too quiet, and he almost imagined Jamie standing at the gate, smiling at him. He blinked a few times, but the image wasn't gone. Jamie, in that same pink cardigan he had bought her when they were still in high school, waved and then beckoned him forward. She turned and walked, all the while looking back at him, straight in his eyes. Landon reached forward and followed her. By the time he had opened the front gate, she was halfway across the road. All in one second a car, speeding, hit Jamie. Although, it didn't seem as if it hit her, but that she vanished into thin air just before it did.
"Noooooo!" cried, and he bounded forward to the spot where she had dissapeared. He felt around him, turning in circles.
All the while, his mother had watched from the front porch with a worrisome eye. Something had to be done, she thought to herself. This was not her son.