The Temple Run

CHAPTER FOURTEEN| Hide!

In the room, the twelve-year-old sat facedown with a pen in his hand.

      His eyes and mind had been glued to the piece of paper. And his memories slowly seeped through. A feeling of nostalgia drifted into him, and slowly, he began to write.

     He wrote it and wrote it, and wrote it on in a handwriting that wasn't all particularly enticing, but rather readable. He'd stop writing and look up into the air, searching for words, before lowering his face again and writing further.

     He hadn't thought of the addresses, and neither a way of sending the letter, but he was just writing it. Perhaps it was to calm his restlessness mind down. To calm the pain and restlessness that grew, knowing his father was missing...

     Suddenly, he stopped in frustration.

     He put the pen aside for a little while, bored of writing.

      Emotionally, he was down.

     He wanted to look at something else, fighting the tears in his eyes. And he saw the window.

     Looking outside, he saw the morning sun sprout into a yellow burning ball. Burning until it almost burned his eyes.

     He smiled a little and looked back down at the paper. He grabbed the pen once more, hungry to write.

Dear Pa,
I wish you'd come back ome. We m iss yu so much.

He stared at it with contempt.

     Sure he was terrible at writing letters, but needless to say, it really was what he felt did him best. Not academics. Nor making people tear up. This- comforting his mind, no matter how little he did to make it happen.

     It made him start to enjoy writing again. At school, he felt that it was torture. But now, that it helped him get composed- have a peace in mind- was actually not all that bad.

     Then, smiling, he added:

We m iss yu very much, Pa. Because we love yu very much.

Suddenly, his sister's yell broke through the air. "James! James!"

     James listened and turned abruptly, shouting back, "Coming!"

      And he got up while still looking at his paper. He smiled at it, folded it and stashed it in his pocket. Possibly, he felt, this might be a charm- to bring his father back safe and sound. 

     And still, with a smile, he quickly ran to his sister.

     "James!" his sister shouted absent-mindedly. And James snorted in annoyance. She turned and saw him, and laughed a little. "Oh, there you are. So, listen to me; don't get out of the house, okay? I'm going to call the police..."

     "Sorry?"

     "Don't get out of the house," she repeated.

     "Oh, okay," he said, a little baffled. He couldn't understand why now she was calling the police, and yet she seemed to be terrified by them. Maybe... Teen confusion? He'd seen something of the sort on-screen.

     And therefore, he whimsically pushed himself back, still staring at his sister, still buried in the pit of confusion as her sister got all worked up again.

     "Alright, so I'm going to close all the doors while you work on the windows, okay?" she asked. "Um... Do that chap! chap! Quickly, we don't have all day, James."