I was eleven years old when I received that call the same night I found my parents dead. Every time I close my eyes, it's there, haunting me, warning me. The blood-stained sheets, the illuminating glow of the alarm clock are set in stone in my head, and I cannot stop the nightmares.
I am 19 now, and the Prognosticate Society have settled into ours lives. Phone calls before serious injuries, crimes, fires. Lots and lots of fires. I am alone in my council-assigned flat, staring into space when a knock at the door thrust me back to reality.
I stand up, my head rushing as I do so. No-one ever visits me. No-one has any reason too.
"Hello?" I say, opening the door slightly, the chain still in place.
"Hello? I'm looking for a Miss Holly Homewood?" A short woman in a flowered top and black jeans stands in my doorway.
"You must've got the wrong address," I say, reluctant to talk to her as I go to shut the door.
Her foot blocks my path.
"I don't think so," she smiled sweetly, "This is the address I was given. May I come in?" She removed her foot from the doorway as I slid the chain off the hook, and reopened the door.
"Good." She said, smiling again, revealing two rows of abnormally perfect, pearly teeth.
"Take a seat," she said, gesturing to the small brown sofa as if it were her flat and I were the visitor. I sat anyway, crossing my legs over one another in an attempt to look posher.
"So you are Holly Homewood, correct?" Her crisp voice broke the silence as she slid into the armchair on the other side of the coffee table.
"Yes, why?" I asked, my fingers dancing over one another in an unsuccessful attempt to remain still.
"I am from the Prognosticate Society, and we're here because we made a mistake. Our only mistake."
I said nothing as she inspected my miniscule flat.
"On the 11th of November 2013 at precisely 3am, you received a phone call, correct?"
"Yes," I managed to choke out; the memory of that night never left my head, and I couldn't stop the pain. If anything, it was getting worse.
"Well, the caller on our end made a serious mistake. Your parents weren't scheduled to die that night. You were."
YOU ARE READING
One Last Call
Mystery / Thriller"I was eleven when the call woke me up in the middle of the night. A warning. The same night I found my parents dead." Holly Homewood is eleven years old when she receives a phonecall from the Prognosticate Society, the same night she finds her pare...
