7
11:53. Heather stared at the glowing red numbers. The digital clock blinked, and it changed to 11:54. Heather sighed and looked away from the painstakingly slow clock and looked up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Rubbing her sleepless eyes, Heather sat up in her bed and glanced towards the closed door. She could hear the sound of the TV on downstairs and could see a thin strip of light creeping in under the crack of her door. She knew her parents were still up. She looked over her shoulder back at the clock. 11:55. The minutes had been crawling by ever since she got into bed. She had tried to lose herself in sleep, but failed. Despite how exhausted she was, she couldn’t even close her eyes. After Heather had jetted off from dinner to pack her bag, her mom had come upstairs to talk. Heather winced at the memory.
“Honey?” her mother had tentatively said as she slowly nudged Heather’s bedroom door open. Heather had been putting a few things in her duffel bag; she jumped when she heard her mom, and shoved the bag under her bed.
“Oh, hi, Mom.” Heather had said, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
“Heather, can we talk for a minute?” her mother said, sounding worried. Heather nodded reluctantly, and her mom stepped all the way into her room and gently closed the door behind her. Heather moved from where she was sitting on the floor to sit on her bed. “Sweetie, we’ve been really worried about you lately. You’ve been acting so strange since your psychologist appointment. And you haven’t gone back yet. Your flashes seem to be getting worse, and you just fainted the other day. You say you’re fine, but you don’t seem like it. Is there anything you have to tell me? I can keep it a secret if you would like. I just want to know what’s happening to my baby,” her mother poured out. Heather could see the worry in her mom’s eyes, and a few gray hairs that she hadn’t noticed before glinted in the light. Heather contemplated telling her mom that she had to leave that night. However, when the moment came to tell her, Heather dropped her gaze to the floor and shook her head. She heard her mother sigh and heard her soft footsteps coming over. Her mom sat down on the bed next to her and soothingly started scratching Heather’s back.
“Are you sure? Absolutely nothing? Heather, you can trust me with anything that’s going on.” A thousand different ways of how she could tell her mother where she was going whirled through Heather’s mind, but none spilled out of her mouth.
“Absolutely nothing, Mom. I’m actually doing better,” Heather lied through her teeth.
“Heather, if you don’t tell me the truth, we can’t help fix it,” her mother protested, but Heather had already lied to her. She couldn’t go back now.
“Really, I swear. There’s nothing to fix.” Her mother sighed, defeated. She stood up and crossed the room, opening the door and stepping out. “Mom?” Heather jerked her head up. Her mom paused at the door. “Mom, I love you.”
Heather’s mother cracked a sad smile. “I love you too, sweetheart.” And with that, she shut the bedroom door silently and padded away, leaving Heather with a full heart and a mind heavy with the thought that she might never see her mom again.
The abrupt cessation of background sound from the television jerked Heather out of her vivid memory of earlier that evening. She whipped her head around to the door. After a few moments of silence, the small strip of light that was streaming underneath the crack of her door disappeared. Heather looked back at the clock. 11:57. She strained to hear the sound of her parents’ footsteps and voices, and when she couldn’t hear them anymore, she knew it was time. Heather silently slipped out from underneath the covers. Setting the carefully worded note she had written at the foot of her bed, she grabbed her packed duffel bag from under her bed. Stealthily, she snuck open her bedroom door and poked her head through. The entire house was silent. Looking over her shoulder, she took in her room one last time. 11:58. Time was ticking. She sighed, and turned her back on her room. Heather slowly shut her door behind her with a quiet thud. She crept down the hallway and down the stairs. Heather inched open her front door and slinked outside. The biting Boston air stung her arms. A haunting full moon sat high in the dark sky. Heather tip-toed over to her driveway, where she saw two familiar people leaning against her truck. She froze. Wait, two? She thought she remembered Henry saying he would come pick her up, not someone else also.
YOU ARE READING
The Hirt
Teen Fiction"The eye sees only what the mind is prepared to comprehend." Heather Marks, a naive, spunky heroine, joins forces with a stubborn, yet attractive, Henry Pratt, a golden-eyed Matt Challey, and the rest of the team. The weight of the world rests on he...
