Run to Me - Writers Forum

Stewie · 03-08-2004, 06:18 PM

Chapter 1

Colm walked down the streets, taking long strides. Psychologists always said that this symbolized something about him. That he was trying to run at all times. Always running. Running from what? The world? Pain? Death? Destruction?
Oh no. Pain, death, and destruction were the things that he was causing, not running from.
In a way, he reminded himself of The Phantom in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera. That’s where he got his fake name from. Colm. Colm Wilkinson stared as the Phantom on Broadway, in London, and in Toronto. He was a star in the musical world. It was a great alias.
It was late November in the wonderful city of New York. The days were ending earlier. It was only 7:30, and it was already dark out. Dark and chilly. Perfect weather in Colm’s mind.
He passed the playground and watched the kids on it. Going down the slides, playing on the swings, laughing… having fun. Fun. The word had no meaning to him. He was a classic for a criminal. The perfect background. Abusive father, mother who didn’t care, never obtaining rewards, but being punished for everything.
Punished with cigars. Spilt milk on the carpet? Dad puts his cigar out on your back. Forgot to turn in permission slip for a field trip? Wait here while I go light my cigar. Might as well smoke it a bit first though, it shouldn’t go to waste.
His parents got their just punishments though. The day he turned 18, he snuck into their room and suffocated his mom with his pillow. Then slit his fathers throat. He loved the feeling. It’s what started him on killing though.
He kept walking and came upon a basketball court. It was dark and the kids couldn’t see what they were doing. They kept trying to play though, laughing and their blunders. Mostly teenagers. 14, 15, 16. A couple of them looked pre-teen though. Probably younger brothers, trying to fit in. Trying to be cool. When will they learn? Being cool doesn’t matter.
It made him angry. Popularity caused more problems than it solved. You hear kids talking about basketball in the halls and you jump in. “I like basketball!” Then they stare you down, make you feel like a freak, until you just leave them. And, of course, the second your back is turned the start talking again.
“Hey Chris!” One of the older boys yelled. “Run home real quick and see if we’re being looked for yet. Don’t tell him where we are though!”
Chris? Colm looked over and saw him. He knew him. The older boy was his brother, David.
Chris started whining. “Davveeee, I don’t want to. If they ask where we are, I can’t lie.”
“Oh come on you wuss. It isn’t hard. Tell them the library, like always. They’ll believe it because they want to believe it.”
“Daveeey!”
“Don’t call me that!” Dave yelled, pointing at him menacing. “Go!”
Chris looked out of the gate and turned back to Dave, who was already playing basketball again. Chris opened his mouth to complain about how dark it was, but changed his mind. He didn’t want to make Dave and his friends think he was still a kid, afraid of the dark. But he was afraid of the dark, and he was still just a kid. He was still so young. Only eleven, the youngest boy there that night.
“I’ll be right back!” Chris yelled running out of the gate. His bare feet hit the damp grass and left little footprints on the sidewalk as he ran on it.
Colm watched the kid run off, the started to talk strides after him. He was heading the opposite direction as where Colm came from. Away from the playground. Away from the park. Away from people. He started taking his strides after Chris, as the passed the elementary school. Empty and dark. Nobody wanted to stay at school, especially on a Friday night.
“Chris!” Colm yelled out.
Chris turned around. “Oh… hi.”
Colm dropped down on one knee. “Chris, you’re being followed. You’re in danger.” He spread his arms out. “Come to me, where it’s safe.”
Chris looked at him suspiciously. “Followed? Who’s following me?”
“There’s no time. Please, come on.”
Chris looked over his shoulder, then back at Colm. He took a few steps towards Colm, then broke into a full out run.
Colm felt his throat tightening and took a deep breath. What was the worst thing anyone could do?
This was it.
He reached behind him and grabbed the bat that a school-kid dropped earlier in the day after recess was over.
“That’s it Chris… run to me.”

Chapter 2

I was sipping on my coffee, black, when I heard someone coming down the stairs behind me. An elephant by the sounds of it. Of course I knew it was my son, Simon. He was the loud one. His sister, Jasmine, was quiet. Well, quiet when walking at least. Overall a loud kid.
They were both beautiful kids. They look just like their mother, both of them. Simon was the younger of the two, but taller. They both had their mothers bright red hair. Jasmine wants to dye it, but it’s so hard for me to let her. Everything that reminds me of Amanda is good.
“Morning Simon.” I said without looking up from the newspaper. The main story was about gas prices rising. Slow day I guess. A gallon of gas is at $1.81 now. It’s horrible. I need to start taking the bus more often.
“Morning dad.” He said running by me and grabbing an apple out of the basket. He was such a strange kid. How many eleven year olds do you know willing to eat breakfast, let alone fruit? I know when I was young I never ate breakfast. I never got up before 11 either.
“Jasmine still asleep?” I asked.
He took a bite out of his apple. He needed braces, so he‘d better enjoy being able to eat apples while he can. That‘ll be gone soon. “No, she’s in the shower.”
My eyes glanced up at the microwave clock. 8:45. “She’s up early for a Saturday. You both are.”
Simon glanced at the clock with me, then back at me. “Wait, dad, home? On a Saturday? This late? I’d think Uncle Jeff would be here by now.”
Jeff Metts was my brother-in-law. Well, actually not anymore. He was Amanda’s brother. I still feel like crying at the thought of Amanda. She was… brutally raped and murdered nearly three years ago. The case was never solved. I haven’t been the same sense.
“He’s coming later. I just haven’t been called into work yet.” I probably would be though. It’s been a long time since I haven’t had to work in on a Saturday. Isn’t New York glorious?
“I’m glad you’re still home.” He said, pulling a chair up and sitting next to me. “Give us a chance to talk.”
I folded up the newspaper and placed it aside. Who cared about gas prices anyway? “You’re right. It’s pretty nice.”
“Knock on wood…” Simon started to start, just as my pager went off. He moaned and I winced.
I grabbed my pager and glanced down at it. I sighed and looked at him. “I love you. Tell Jasmine I love her, will you?” I always made sure I told me kids I loved them before I left. I didn’t want to die on the job without saying goodbye.
As I drove down the road to the police station, I started wondering what I would be placed on today. Serial murderer? Rapist? Arsonist? They were all common occurrences here. That’s horrible to say, but they are.
I flicked on the radio as I sat a red light and starting flipping. I’m With You by Avril Lavigne, commercials, Usher, some country song, news. I left it there, thinking that maybe I’ll get a little bit of a briefing before I actually started working. I was wrong. There was nothing of interest on the news and I shut up off as I pulled into my reserved parking spot. Reserved for Adam Van Outen. Looks so nice written out like that.
My parking space was wedged in-between two other cops I work with. To my left was John Cross, and Mitch Sampson was on my right. John’s car was there, but Mitch’s wasn’t. I wondered if he was going to show up, or if the case didn’t involve him.
If Mitch wasn’t involved, then I was worried. Mitch was known for his weak stomach.
The most brutal cases were the one’s that he wasn’t involved with. Like Amanda’s. He had nothing to do with that one.
I grabbed my cell phone and called my house quickly before I entered for another long day of work. Jeff answered.
“I just wanted to make sure you were there, I worry about my kids.”
It was basically the line I told him everyday before I started. I was always worried some psycho was going to find out where I lived and go after my family as a little warning for me to get off of his case. It hasn’t happened to me… yet, but I knew of others who it happened to.
Like my partner, Ash Conklin. His son was kidnapped 3 months ago by a female murderer known as Amy Lee. She hasn’t been caught, so there’s still some hope left for his son. Little hope, but hope none the less.
Ash is also my best friend. That makes that reality of police’s families been hunted so much more realistic to me, and worries me greatly. I always think before I leave my house “What if I never see my kids again?”
I push the thought aside though, as I have to do every day. I had work to do. Places to go, and criminals to be brought down.

Kat · 04-22-2004, 01:49 PM

It reads well. You want to continue reading. In the first chapter the part where you say "Chris? Colm looked over and saw him. He knew him. The older boy was his brother, David. " is kind of confusing. It reads like David is Colm's brother. Also the last line is just too regular, ordinary. And does anyone actually think that?