luke
"Luke!" A voice breaks into my dreamless sleep. Even in my exhausted state, I recognized the voice as my mother's and I instantly groan, burying my face in the warm blanket. A loud sigh escapes my lips as I roll over and fumble for my phone.
Suddenly, Mum is shaking me in attempt to get me to open my eyes. This happens quite often; almost every day now. But it's only halfway through the second week of summer break and I should be able to sleep as much as I want, to catch up for all of the sleepless nights I had during the school year.
"Luke Robert Hemmings!" She yells, loud enough to wake a hibernating bear somewhere in another country. "Do not make me get a bucket of ice water." I pry my eyes open at this because one time she really did pour ice water onto my face to get me up for school. It was a last resort, yes, but it was one that she had proven to be willing to take.
Mum is standing next to my full sized bed with her hands on her hips, dressed in a white bathrobe and a worried expression.
"What?" I mumble, my morning voice cracking. With a glance at my clock, I realize it's 2:47 in the afternoon. This is typical for me. Normally if I don't have plans with Calum or the rest of the band, I will sleep until my hunger grows too great to further ignore.
"I heard a scream coming from Mrs. Patterson's house. Go over there and make sure she's okay." She says cautiously as if trying not to alarm me. Her words may as well be a bucket of ice water, and I instantly jump out of bed as fear spreads through my body.
Mrs. Patterson has been my next door neighbor since before I was born. She's this sweet old lady who always gives me a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies. She even gives me some when I show up unannounced, always ready with a warm batch. I had long ago come to the conclusion that she just baked her days away, waiting for me to pay her a visit.
Her husband had died a few years back. Ever since then, she's been slowly losing it. A scream could mean anything, literally anything. I try not to think the worst.
I shakily fumble for a pair of black sweatpants and a random T-shirt from a pile on the floor in the small frame of time that I have before running out the front door with my shoes untied.
As my legs carry me to her front door, my mind runs through a list of possible scenarios. But they are all terrible, unthinkable, even. Suddenly I am aware of how I have always taken her presence for granted, always expecting her to be up for a visit at any hour of the day. Guilt weighs down my usual grin as I knock on her front door. There is no answer at first, and my heart begins to beat faster. I can feel its pulse throughout my entire body. She could have fallen off a chair or slipped in the shower. In a panic, I realize I left my phone in my room which leaves me unable to call 911 if need be.
I ring the doorbell, unsure of what else to do. If she really needed me too, I could probably break down the door, but I'm not very strong and I would have a better chance at breaking my arm, rather than the lock.
About thirty seconds pass with no answer, so I ring it again as well as knock repeatedly, as she's a bit hard of hearing. My heart starts beating even faster at the possibility that something might actually be wrong.
Suddenly the door flies open. A girl who appears to be my age stands in the doorway, looking annoyed. She is wearing light blue jeans and a black sweatshirt, with the logo of a department store plastered across the front. She has long dark hair that went almost to her waist and these piercing green eyes. For a second I wonder if I have the right house, but the same white daisies that I've helped Mrs. Patterson water for my whole life are sitting on the porch.
The girl raises her eyebrows as if to ask me what I want.
"Hi, um, I'm Luke and I live next door. My mum heard a scream and sent me to see if Mrs. Patterson is okay." I stammer. I wasn't expecting this girl, only a kind old lady with a plate full of cookies.
The girl opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by Mrs. Patterson appearing behind her with her classic smile that I have come to know her for.
"Oh, hello Luke! How are you?" she asks cheerfully, stepping onto the porch and reaching for a hug.
"I'm good. How are you? My mum said she heard a scream coming from your house. She sent me to check on you." I say, eyeing the girl as I talk. She's looking the other way, tapping her dark purple fingernails against her jeans in a pattern.
But I can tell she's listening.
"Oh," Mrs. Patterson offers a tight smile and glances at the girl, still standing in the doorway, who appears to be looking anywhere but at me. "That was just my granddaughter here, Alexis. She gets these nightmares-"
"Gram!!" the girl, Alexis yells, horrified. There is a note of something else in her voice, but I'm not sure what. Mrs. Patterson looks back at me, and feel a pang of sympathy for the girl. Not really because of the nightmares, but because of how embarrassing this situation must be for her.
Alexis, I think, testing out the name. I've never met anyone with that name, but I like it.
"Oh, I'm sorry dear, I just didn't want Luke to worry. Why don't you come in, honey? I just baked some of those cookies you love!" She offers. I would decline, so I can go back to bed, but I've learned that she always insists on stuffing me full with cookies, despite any excuse that I could possibly think of.
"Um, yeah. That'd be good, thanks." I say and glance at Alexis, silently asking her if she's okay with it. She rolls her eyes and turns to go back into the house, but Mrs. Patterson grabs her arm.
"Alexis, dear. Could I speak with you a moment?" she asks her granddaughter. It's one of those questions that you actually have no choice in. She opens the door wider, still gripping Alexis's arm. "Luke, go have a seat in the kitchen. I'll get you some cookies just after I have a chat with my granddaughter." She tells me, and although I'm not looking at her, I know Alexis just widened her eyes. I nod and walk into the house, hearing Alexis groan behind me.
YOU ARE READING
and then you left // cth
Fanfiction"you left me, cal. after everything you'd said, after every promise, you left me without even saying goodbye," my words knock the wind out of him. he doesn't know what to say, what to do. but even so, he stares into my eyes, reminding me of everythi...
