West Pier (Chapter 2: Gone)
By socialeaf
- 338 reads
Gone
Noah woke with a start and immediately was consumed by unease. There was a brightness, a warmth to the sun piercing his curtains which he immediately knew meant that he had overslept…by a lot. But it was more than that. There was an electricity in his room that caused the light hairs on his arms to stand up and brush against his pyjama sleeves and a metallic tinge to the air that made him feel slightly nauseous.
“Mum?”
Never before had his mother failed to wake him for school. Panicked, Noah sprang out of bed and paced across the room. The strange energy snapped off his cheeks and forehead, causing him to blink and as he reached for the door handle, his hand was met painfully by a purple spark.
“Mum?”
Instinctively he made his way down to the kitchen, where the metallic odour was overpowering; Noah lifted his pyjama top over his nose and mouth.
“Mum, where are you?”
He turned back into the passage and breaking into a run, raced back up the stairs and towards his mother’s bedroom. There was an emptiness to her room and a familiar sadness, which for the briefest of moments, given what he was experiencing, Noah found strangely calming. The kingsized bed was neatly made and there was less of the frenetic energy in the air. The room offered no clues as to where she might be though, so Noah walked tentatively back to the kitchen.
Again half covering his face, Noah opened the kitchen door leading out to the back garden. A crisp April breeze whipped in and began diluting the strange smell and the crackling air. After a few deep breaths looking out over the small garden, Noah began to gather his thoughts, calm his racing mind and try to sprinkle reason over what had been a most peculiar and upsetting few minutes. Dad had always told him that the simplest reasons were also the most likely.
“And what is the simplest reason for Mum not being here, Dad?” he mused out loud. “She forgot to wake me up and went out to do some shopping. She could have gone to Jean’s.”
As unlikely as that seemed, he felt that for the time being that line of explanation would have to do. He’d get himself off to school in time for his afternoon classes and then hopefully, on his return, she’d be at the door as soon as he had opened it, apologising for forgetting to wake him, and life would go on.
By the time Noah had got himself ready for school, the weather had turned. He was met at the door by thick dark clouds and the breeze had whipped itself into a bitter northwesterly. Hoping to bump into Mum, Noah opted for the route along Portland Road. If she’d gone shopping, there was a decent chance they’d meet. As he leaned into the wind, Noah was still aware of the sickening smell he’d woken to; it seemed to hang stagnant on the air despite the gusts which were now whipping up plastic bags from the gutters and sending them spiralling up into the grey.
“Alright lad?” came a deep, gravelly yet instantly recognisable voice to his left.
Noah raised a hand. “Alright Paul,” he replied.
Piercing blue eyes sparkled from a heavily bearded face and effortlessly communicated an otherwise hidden smile. Paul was a fixture in front of the Portland Road shops, but now was taking shelter from the strange weather in the doorway of what had until a few weeks before been the chemist where Mum had collected her prescriptions. His rolled-up blue sleeping bag and brown canvas rucksack rested behind him against the boarded up door; a block of Big Issues he cradled in his right arm fluttered and flapped in the wind.
“Paul, you haven’t seen my mum go by this morning, have you?” Noah asked, trying not to give away the dread he had felt all morning.
Paul held a tattily-mittened hand up to his ear.
“My mum!” repeated Noah, shouting to make himself heard over the thudding wind. “You haven’t seen her this morning?”
“Oh…not yet today,” came the reply. “Saw her yesterday. She bought an Issue. Everything OK?”
“She didn’t wake me…” Noah began, but then stopped himself. “Sure it’s fine; just looking for her.”
For an instant, the old man’s eyes hardened in concern, but then the smile returned to them.
“OK then, lad; it’s been very quiet out this morning, but if she goes by, I’ll tell her I’ve seen you and that you’re after her.”
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Comments
Sounds ominous, drawing me in
Sounds ominous, drawing me in to read more.
Jenny.
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