It had been a while since the telephone had started ringing. Maybe out of ignorance, or of the demanding tiredness that had had been gripping him lately, Theodore Fernandes lay lazily on his bed, his palm just an inch away from the phone, yet not in a mood to pick it up.
The brutal ringing cut into the dusty silence of the room, causing the boy to turn around uneasily on his bed, his ear pressed against the pillow. The ringing stopped. After a minute, it started ringing again. This was the seventh time.
"Who in the world is this?" Theo spat into the phone.
"Its from the Lakeshore hospital. Mr. Fernandes is no more. We are sorry."
The phone slipped away from the boy's hands. He stared blankly at the window, as the telephone dangled down the bedside table, the helpless "hello? Anyone there?" from the caller's end echoing across the room. Numbness consumed every inch of Theo's body. He felt a single tear roll down his frozen face and wet the palm of his hand. He let himself fall back into the comfort of his bed, the cushions hitting him like pointed needles. He ran his hand over his messy hair, and pressed his eyes down. He felt his voice back in his throat.
"NO!" He yelled, and it was promptly returned by the plain walls.
It all seemed like a big joke, yet the factuality of the event was sinking right into his soul. Theodore Fernandes was now an orphan.
This is his story. The story of someone who had a story to tell, but no one to listen.
YOU ARE READING
Being Theo Fernandes
Teen FictionAs he walks back home down the path he had so often despised, Theo thinks again, not about what awaits him, but what he is leaving behind.
