Emmet crouched under the table, shivering with fear.
“WHERE ARE YOU!?!” his father growled.
Emmet didn’t answer. He knew, either way, he’d be whipped.
This had been going on for one and a half years. When his mother Emmaletta disappeared, his father took to drinking. He’d heard stories about people drinking to get rid of their pain, but he never imagined it would happen to his family.
His two little twin sisters had disappeared along with his mother, and he still regretted how treated them, slamming the door in their face and telling them to get out of his room when they asked him to read a storybook.
“WHERE ARE YOU, BOY!? COME HERE RIGHT NOW!!”
Emmet took a deep breath and ran agile and softly to the couch. He scooted behind it. The smell was foul and smelled like beer. He wrinkled his nose. Dad- no, he didn’t deserve to be called that anymore- would go into his room and sleep it off. Sure enough, 15 minutes later, Emmet heard the loud snores of his father sleeping. He scooted out of his hiding place and tiptoed up the stairs. He grabbed is favorite- but only- orange and black backpack and packed his clothes and favorite belongings, his money envelope containing $1,142.92, and tucked in a picture of his family. He also grabbed his carefully hidden laptop and charger and tucked them in between his pants and tee shirts. He slung the now heavy backpack over his shoulders and tiptoed down the stairs again. He opened the coat closet door. Squeak! Emmet jumped. He had forgotten how squeaky those old doors were. He grabbed his winter coat and another jacket, left the closet door open to prevent more sound, and slowly made his way to the front door but stopped in the hallway. Unfortunately for him, Emmet’s father wasn’t a very sound sleeper. He awoke at loud noises easily. And his bedroom was on the way to the front door.
Never mind, Emmet thought. I’ll use the back door.
He opened the back door and breathed in the fresh spring air. It was a wet, drizzly afternoon and Emmet was hungry, one piece of bread and butter and a small bowl of disgusting instant mac-n-cheese that had been sitting around for a week uneaten did not satisfy his stomach.
He walked the familiar street to the bus station. The next bus would come in 10 minutes, so he sat down and waited.
4 minutes later a girl with light-brown hair and came into the bus station, lugging a pink and black backpackand sat down. She glanced at Emmet and asked, “Are you from around here?” in a weird accent.
Emmet sighed. “Yeah, I live close by.”
The girl dropped the accent. “Good.”
“Huh?” Evan was confused. “Is this a joke?”
“Nah, I just use that Mexican accent to make sure they don’t recognize me. I’m Ellie.” She stuck out her hand to shake his.
“Who are you hiding from?” Emmet asked, not noticing her hand.
“That sounds familiar.”
“What’s your name?” Ellie asked.
“I’m Ellie, as I said before.”
They shook hands.
The bus rounded the corner and stopped.
“There’s the bus, I have to go,” Emmet said.
“Where are going, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Julpville*. Where are you going?”
“I don’t really have a preference, but I’d like to go with you. If you want.”
Emmet thought about it for a minute. Should he let this girl he barely knew travel with him? After all, who knew the real reason she wanted to travel with him? It didn’t really matter at the moment, so he said, “Sure, I don’t mind. I like to have company.”
“Great!” She smiled.
The bus door opened, and she went in first, then an elderly lady, then Emmet, and then a young man followed.
She scooted into the third row seat and pointed to the two seats across the other side. Emmet plunked down on the seat near the window and put his bag on the other. He leaned back into the seat and rested for what seemed like a peaceful 113 mile ride to Julpville. But not for long. 30 minutes later, a sputtering engine made the bus stop.
“What are we going to do now?”
Emmet: 14 years old, brown hair, blue eyes.
Ellie: 13 years old, light brown straight hair, green-blue eyes.
I hoped you enjoyed part 1! Let me know if I should continue. I’m not so busy nowadays and have more time to write. Oh btw, *Julpville is a made-up town. Later Guidesters!
4 thoughts on “Living Without Fear | 1”
Yes, please! I want to know what will happen next. I enjoyed reading your story.
Sure it’s a cool story!
Very engaging! Thanks for sharing it. Keep on writing.