Soon the light will go out, plunging me into darkness. I am quite alone. The door is locked from the outside; it will not be opened until morning. I can barely speak my throat is so dry. Someone seems to have put my temples in a vice.
Tony is in my history class. He is sixteen years old.
I see him now; sitting at the front of the room. His hair is cut military style but he has an unusual habit of running his fingers across his scalp as if he had long, flowing locks. Perhaps his crew cut is recent; a new look to go with his new school.
He has the most piercing green eyes. They sparkle when he thinks. They are set symmetrically either side of a squat nose, which hovers above slightly crooked lips. When he smiles he shows uneven teeth.
He was not raised in our ways. He reads books that are not on the syllabus. He asks questions in class; he has opinions. He argues with me. He does not know his place.
What is it about those eyes? They began to haunt me. Almost literally. I dreamed of the boy night after night. He is constantly in my thoughts, frustrating me.
The police do not understand. I have done nothing wrong. I shouldn’t be here. Why won’t they believe me.
I worry about what might happen next. What will become of me? What will become of Tony?
And then, the lights go out.
Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 