A Ballad for the Lost

four

"What should we do?" I asked, fear in my voice.

"I called the police," said Anya, "they should be here any second now―"

Anya was interrupted by the sound of sirens screeching in the distance. We both exchanged glances and ran for the front door.

***

"So...you're telling me," started Officer Martin (according to his uniform), "that this kid hasn't even been in this hospital for a week and he's already run off?"

I rolled my eyes. "You say it like he's eventually supposed to run away anyways."

Martin ignored my comment and turned to face Anya. "May I investigate Peter's hospital room?"

Anya nodded and lead Mr. Martin to room 3B and opened the door. We waited outside while he entered, but were instead shocked to hear him laughing. He walked back outside and faced me. "You think this is funny? I have a job to do."

Speechless, I stared at him in confusion until Anya broke in.

"What are you talking about?"

"The 'missing' boy was never missing. Think things through next time, I don't have time for your lousy pranks." The officer snorted and strutted away.

Slowly, me and Anya opened Peter's door to find Peter laying silently in his bed, awake and alert. Again, shocked, I looked at Anya and then at Peter and back at Anya again. "I think I'm gonna have a little chat with him."

"Ummm...you're missing one tiny little detail...." She said, smirking.

"And that is?"

"He can't talk."

"I know."

Anya was taken aback by my response. "Then how are you gonna have you're little 'chat'?"

"You'll see."