I gasp in the air of a new day. Inhale . . . outhale.
"Mornin'" I say, while walking downstairs towards the kitchen. No reply bounces back. It takes me a while to realize no one's here. I never got used to that fact.
I sigh heavily, Mom had been gone for a week on a business trip, and was supposed to come back today. Maybe the plane broke down, maybe something popped up . . . I drowned chocolate into my milk, and the milk into my mouth.
Why hadn't she come back yet? Why not? I hoped there was a good reason. I yawned as the phone rang, "I'll get tha -" I almost say until I laugh at my own stupidity. I'd have to get it anyways. I walked over and picked up the phone lazily, silently, Alone.
"Hello?" I say, hoping with all my heart it's my mom.
"Hello." says a hard, cold voice.
"Who is this?" I ask, the voice was unwelcoming, cold, dusty, rough.
"You do not need to know my name, Lily." The man says.
"Who is this?" I demand.
"I shall not tell you. My name doesn't matter-"
"Yes. Your name does matter. Tell me it know." I demanded again. I would never talk to someone who knows my name and would never let me know his.
"I will not tell you my name." The voice roughly said.
"Then I will hang up."
I quickly checked the phone to see the number. I scribbled the number down; (905) 203-245- 4100, just in case.
"Then you won't know the news, and you will be at your house waiting for your mother forever when she will not be able to come." the man said once I put the phone up to my ear again.
"What news?" I asked curiously.
"That's what I thought." the man said, I swear I almost even heard him let out a smirk and a laugh.
I heard yelling in the background, but not loud enough for me to hear what the yelling blurt out.
"I have to go." The man said roughly. "Just don't wait for your mother, Lillian." He hung up after that.
How did he know my name? Who was he? Question fluttered around like a thousand butterflies in my head, stuck. I tried to forget about it. Maybe it was just a prank call . . . No. It seemed too real, too scary.
I tried to forget about what just happened, but it stuck to me like a thistle. I sighed, and walked back to my bedroom. I sat on my bed and threw some darts at my dart board.
Bang. Bang. Bang . . . Hit. hit, hit. What should I do? I was bored, and anxious. His voice seemed familiar . . . but I could never understand who it was. I sat in my bed, clueless. What would I do next? Who was that guy? What was his news about my mom? Why was there a note on my desk? Why didn't I have any more questions to ask?
I looked at the desk and took the note.
It said one simple thing: Run.
Probably a prank, I thought. I plopped down again on my bed . . . what to do, what to do. I walked downstairs, slowly, carefully, thinking. Should I really do that? Yes. It would tell me if it was a prank or not. And it would tell me what happened to my mother. I slowly walked over to the phone, and clutched it in my hand.
I stared down, There was the note of the guy's number. I dialed, slowly, carefully.
"Hello?" I asked into the phone once all the rings were gone.
"Hello." Answered that familiar voice. It was the guy's.
"I would really like to know that news now. Please, I would like to know." I said, trying not to show fear in my voice.
"Lily . . . Your mother is dead."
