"You mean to tell me that son of a bítch was at the hospital!" her father yelled from her livingroom.
They had arrived hours ago. The whole ride home she cried and wanted to return to the hospital to ask if anyone had seen him. But, they refused.
She sat on the couch still staring at the IPod. Her mind tried its best to understand. She tried to search for a logical explanation. But she couldn't.
She is sure her back pack stayed behind.
By then her father sat at her side and gently reached for her hand.
She wanted badly to explain to him what this meant. How important and unbelievable this all was but she couldn't. It was an explanation best not touched because there was no way to describe to her father that she was tossed back into the past with that very IPod and for some unexplainable miracle it ended back up in the future with her. Because he brought it back...to her future...
They talked and she assured her father that she was o.k. and that she could handle it. Reluctantly he stood. And bent to kiss her forehead.
Shortly after they left and it was just her and Mimi. She felt exhausted and overwhelmed with all that went on. She needed rest and a clear head.
With a sad gaze Mimi told her good night. She stood slowly and walked over to her room. Still beside herself she sat on her bed in the dark. Her mind toyed with endless possibilities then...a brief sensation of hope....then...the slight chance it wasn't what she might think it is.
And that maybe it wasn't him. Maybe someone found it and returned it. But all the way from London?
Could this be a cruel joke?
She couldn't close her eyes. She was tired more than anything but her nerves and anxiousness kept her awake.
She settled beneath the sheets for a while. Then she sat up and turned on her lamp. If they found her IPod. Then, they must have her phone. And she wanted it back.
She never reported it stolen because deep down she knew it wasn't. Maybe lost in time but stolen.
With a sigh after she sat up she reached for her phone. She paused and slid the screen over to open it.
She got to her message app and typed in her number.
A long text message should help. Slowly she became a little upset that whoever had her phone did not return it.
All of her pictures were on it. Mainly ones of her mother she kept close so she definetly wanted it back.
She began to type:
To whoever has this phone I would really appreciate it if you could return it. I am the owner and lost some time ago. It is of sentimental value with photos that can't be replaced. I'm not asking much and I wont press charges. But if you can please return it.
She read it over. Her thumb hesitated over the send button before drawing a deep breath and shutting her eyes tight and pressing it.
It went through to her relief. Nervously she watched as a green check appeared and then dots formed...
Tara is typing....
Her heart fluttered as the alert of her responding popped up followed by a message.
Is there a reward for returning it?
She scoffed. "Unbelievable," she huffed.
Yea that I don't report you to the cops.
She waited. Then a response popped up.
YOU ARE READING
Misplaced Angel (Slowly Editing)Historical Fiction
A fierce Knight... Known for his victorious battles on the field by day and his prowess by night, Lord Duncan of Chaswick, fierce Knight and Warrior had no idea how much his life would change. Standing before him in his chapel the most alluring, s...