CURRENT.ly - Mystery Kids AU

11 - Hard To Crack

Who hasn't heard of Murphy's law?

Norman could swear he thought about or heard about it on an painstaking average of thrice a week. He questioned the normality of the event, but made no effort to find answers.
He didn't care to know.

Living in a round sphere of rock, travelling through space, being scorched by the vibrant sun every day, some things were just asking to be put through an obstacle course.

Norman cursed that law.
In fact, he cursed them all - quietly, discreetly, and privately, as strong worded language was frowned upon in his family.
That made him curse even more.
He understood why, of course, but they were just sounds, expressive noise. He just couldn't say them aloud because he wasn't allowed.

Sandra had caught the cold too.

While Norman had been experiencing fun from the 90's, his mother had been taking care of his dad - still grumpy and sleepy from a night of ill rest - and the bug caught up to her.

Maybe not his finest moment.
But maybe it was for the best.
If he got sick too, then what?

He still hadn't broken the news to his mother that he had been actually asked to socialize.
And the outcome.

He had spent quite some time pondering that in his head.
It was a thrill to revive the idea and make up outcomes through memories he hadn't even lived through yet, imagined fuel from expectations carved onto him by movies.

He could hang on and poke at the promise Mabel made of games and food and 'movies-maybe'.
It would be fun.
It would be relaxing.
No need to feel frightened.
No need at all.

But now his mom was sick.
They spent the whole Tuesday cooped up in their little apartment.

Norman fiddled with the strange stone Coraline gave him, texted Neil to know what was new in town.
Came to know he had finally asked Salma about the Christmas festival.
As of now, Neil was still waiting for an official reply.
They exchanged nerves and time for preferable banter.

"How scared were you lol"

"No srsly, I was about to die right after I asked her"

"Tragic really. If you die for real you're not staying at my house"

"Im gonna form a duo with ur grandma"

"No. Shut up"

"We ll put u to bed at 10 pm"

"Immediate exorcism"

Fun as texting was, it couldn't be turned into a hobby for every hour of the living day.

He had homework to do.
He set up everything he needed to finish his english homework, picked up a pencil and promptly forgot about the homework in favour of reading comics in his phone again.

Dinner had been something warm. He couldn't remember it now.
There had been another fight, so he shut the memory out.

On Wednesday, he was fueled by a wish to leave.
Leave the house. Leave the arguments. Leave the worries.
He asked for permission - granted - and grabbed his skateboard before he was out of the way.

It was grey outside, no sight of the sun apart from hesitant peeks through heavy coloured clouds that refused to leak just yet.

Specks of ice littered the ground among panflets for things that nobody cared about.
He didn't expect to be able to skate - Mabel's friends had warned him it wouldn't take much longer before the first snowfalls began, and then it would be too impractical.