Maroon: Part 1

January 14, 2013
By mckennaxoxo PLATINUM, Louisville, Kentucky
mckennaxoxo PLATINUM, Louisville, Kentucky
27 articles 0 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
the role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say. -anais nin

Light was slowly beginning to fall through the window blinds, creating stripes of light against the maroon walls. Shadows from the activity outside danced on the smooth walls, like a shadow puppet show. The city life meant that there was no peace outside, there are always people on the move and cars getting them where they need to go. I breathed in the rich smell of coffee, hot and stimulating. It was resting on the dark, wood coffee table sitting in front of me. A soft cotton blanket was cuddled around me, reminding me of the rare blankets I had as a child, comforting and safe. Soon I remembered I was on the couch in the front of the room. I wanted to get up, but my body feared the cold chill of the air that would hit me. So I just lied there, watching the steam of the coffee float up into the air and disappear.

Next to the coffee was a note, basic lined paper that looked like it had been torn from a notebook, with smeared ink as if a hand had been drug across it. My hands gathered courage to go out into the cold when I reached to grab the paper.

Written in quick, inky, sloppy handwriting was a letter from John.

Dear Marilyn,

By the time you wake up I will already be gone. You are the only one who has heard from me that I am leaving. I’m stealing a car and heading west, away from New York, but that is all I can tell you.

Don’t worry, this wont be the last word from me. I will find you again.
Your brother,

I wasn’t surprised. Tears didn’t swell in my eyes, as I read possibly the last words from my brother, because the tears have dried up and left, leaving nothing but a desert where there once was a lake.
Suddenly, the sound of crashing came into the room. Someone was breaking down the door. The hallway to the front door was behind me, so I couldn’t see what was happening. Before I could do anything but turn my head, men came rushing in, and panic running with them. One I recognized, a tall dark man with threatening eyes, looking like the Alpha leading the pack. He had worked with my brother. They all had guns gripped tightly in their hands, and I had nothing. “You know why we’re here, now tell us where he is!” He angrily said as he tried to catch his breath. They all were huffing and puffing. If you are going to chase people, don’t rely so much on cars, I thought.
With a calm face and a fast heart, I stuffed the note in the hot coffee, burning the tips of my figures. “You won’t find him,” I spoke as firmly as I could. And before they could react, and without my own clear thinking, I picked up the mug and threw it into those threatening eyes as hard as I could.

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