Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24699202-20150224213805

Its 2:57 AM when you wake up.

You're tired and groggy from the day before.

Noticing something is amiss, you look out the window to see something not there.

Dad's car isn't in the driveway. It could be in the garage but, something isn't right.

As you move away from the window, facing the door, you hear something downstairs.

A voice. Your mothers voice. She is crying, howling even. But she is trying to keep it down.

Keeping it down for you. She doesn't want you to wake up. But as you move forward, the floor creaks.

She stops crying for a moment before starting again, you are closer to the door.

Standing before it, you take it all in. What happened? Why is she crying?

Then you remember. Dad.

Tentatively, your hand goes to the metal handle. Its cold feeling deters your hand.

You turn it, and push. Voila, It's open. You can see the hallway. Your eyes adjust to the darkness.

The bathroom on the right, and Mom and Dad's room at the end of the hall. Moms paintings lined both walls.

As you walk by the bathroom, you can see a small ray of light shining weakly through the bottom of the door.

You can see it's lightly opened, so with a push, it opens with a sharp crack

On the TV, you could see something along the lines of Breaking News

It said that there had been an act of terrorism downtown in the business district.

As you slowly realize what's going on, you sit on the floor, in front of the TV like a small child.

The newswoman said that there had been an explosion inside 621 O'Connor Place.

Since it was late, not many people had been there. But Dad had. The camera panned to a part of the tower.

Or the lack of it. Pillars of smoke rose from the story like a tea kettle.

And the flames reminded you of a phoenix. Fire crews were fighting to put it out, but it was no use.

You remembered mom, and you backed away from the TV, not keeping your eyes of it.

As you walked down the stairs, you can hear her cries getting louder and louder.

As you walked into the kitchen, you saw your mom's back. Her long blonde her glistening in the dark.

You touch her shoulder and she jumps. With her bad eyesight, she looks at you.

"Honey?" she sniffles, "is that you?"

You tell her that it's you, and you ask her why she is crying. You feel stupid because you know the answer.

"Oh honey, someone called and told your dad that he needed to go back to the office. There was an-" She starts sobbing loudly.

what should I do??? 