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A general fiction story by


Submitted Dec 15, 2009, 4:00:08 PM

A Stranger In A Strange Place - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

God, my head was swimming. The throbbing in my head hit me suddeny as I woke up. The pain was unbearable. It was like a massive train-wreck in my head. I willed myself up out of bed.

I got up and immediately put a CD on. You can't go wrong with a bit of '80's classic rock in my opinion. Soon, I heard a banging on my bedroom wall coming from the other side. The neighbours. I couldn't stand them. They were these 'we like our privacy, but we don't mind invading anyone else's' people. I hated them so I turned my music up a little louder. Seriously, I hated them with a passion.

I needed to get the hell out of the house. I had nothing to do and I couldn't be bothered to dit and lounge about all day. My mum would just have a go at me for it as usual.

I decided to get some food and go to the park, hoping I wouldn't meet anyone from the day before there. I didn't know how much longer I could go without telling them how much I hated them. But I wouldn't try it. I'm not as big as them. I'm not completely scrawny, just not that muscular. I've never really wanted to be.

Anyway, after going to the park, I decided to just take a long, aimless wander round the neighbourhood. It was a pretty nice place. The place was full of houses, trees and hedgerows. It wasn't a bad little place at all. It's just a damn shame the people kind of ruined it for me. I couldn't stand most of them so I kept out of their way.

After my aimless wander, I thought I should probably head back home and think of something else to do. As soon as I entered the house the awful smell of booze invaded my nostrils. It stung my nose. I can still smell it today.

"Where the hell have you been?" she bellowed as she got up from the the couch with a near empty bottle in her hand. She glared at me with a furious hatred in her eyes.

"Have you been drinking?" I demanded, but of course I already knew the answer.

"What's it to you? What are you gonna do?" she cried. The rage in her was clear from the way she looked at me. It was an intense stare. She looked ready to attack any second.

"Mum, seriously, you've got to stop!" I shouted. I did my best to try and sound intimidating but I don't think I managed to pull it off.

"What if I don't want to, huh? You can't stop me!" she roared in triumph.

I don't know why I did what I did next. I can't really explain it. I don't know what the hell came over me.

I made a desperate lunge for the bottle. "Mum, give me the bottle," I cried while I did it. My fingertips just scraped the bottle, but she yanked it away quickly.

I reached out for it again, but she turned herself away and ran to the other side of the room, cradling the bottle in her arms. I ran after her, holding out my hand, to try and turn her around. I turned her around, but as I did, she raised her arm with the bottle in her unmoving hand and sent it hurtling towards my head.

The last things I remembered were the crack of the bottle, a red river flowing down my face, the whole room starting to spin and then it all turning to black.

I woke up later, with the pain rushing to my head. The cut was stinging. I raised my hand to my head, pulled it away and saw a crimson puddle in my hand.

Looking around the room, I noticed that everything was in its right place. The room was darker than I remembered it.

I called out into the nothingness, "Mum?" several times. No answer. I got myself to my feet groggily and called out again.


No response.

I walked around the house, calling her as I went, but there was no answer. I had searched every room, but there was no sign of her. As I walked into her bedroom, I noticed that her wardrobe was open. I rushed over to it and pulled open the doors. The only thing that occupied it was a small spider making a web in the bottom right-hand corner. Her clothes were gone.

She had a chest of drawers next to her bed. I yanked the drawers open. She usually kept her passport in the top drawer. It wasn't there.

She was gone.

My mind told me to go - get away from the house and go as far away as I could. I would have to pack all my things. But hang on... who the hell would I go to? No-one would take me in.

I racked my brains for ages, then it hit me. Danny. He had his own place. I remember him bragging about it when I was in school. He said he was gonna invite as many girls over to his place as he wanted and... well, you get the idea, right?

But that was the thing. No, not the girls - the fact that he'd told me all this when I was at school, which was about a year and a half earlier. I hadn't seen him since. Would he even remember me?

But I was sure I had his number somewhere. I eventually found it written down on a little piece of paper at the back of an old book full of drawings I hadn't used for a while.

As I stood there with the little piece of paper, I went through the pros and cons of going to his place. I would have to travel for about two hours and I had no transport. But, then again, the only other option was to go to my grandparents' place, and I was damn sure I didn't want to be around that lingering smell 24/7... or my grandma. Plus, Danny had girls going round his place.

I called him up. After about thirty seconds of repetitive beeping, he picked up.

"Hello?" he said wearily.

"Were you sleeping?" I asked incredulously.

"What, who the hell's this?"

"It's Michael, listen, I need to come to your place. I need somewhere to stay." I said, almost shouting.

"Oh... oh, right then... well, yeah, come on down. Are you getting the train?"

I supposed I'd have to. "Uh, yeah, I'll get the train, I guess."

"Alright, mate, see you later," he said and he hung up! Was that it? Was it really that simple? Yeah, that's Danny for you. Simple.

I quickly washed my face, packed up some clothes, my drawing book, my iPod and my toothbrush and went out the front door to the train station.

And I've never looked back.


AlexScribe Avatar


Commented Jan 19, 2019, 8:11:33 AM
Well written but not enough here to evaluate beyond that.
... told me that Reader's Digest was... {whatever punctuation you use for periodicals be consistent}
... write the time down[,] Abigail?"
She swallows loudly... {had to decide who "She" was -- patient or receptionist}
Mike L B Avatar

Mike L B

Commented Jan 19, 2019, 10:36:59 PM
Thanks for the comments, duly noted. More to come soon.
kt6550 Avatar


Commented Feb 17, 2019, 9:00:10 PM
Good imagery and nice dialog. Also, very good pacing in the story. Not fatigueing in the least.