I love the way you started the scene directly with narrative action. That means you know what you're doing. But you have to finish the story. You just have to. Good job
|He should have never been there in the first place. She had told him not to follow. He never listened. He hadn't listened to here since they were growing up together on her parents small farm. He froze as he heard the sound of scuffling footsteps and slid silently behind a folding hospital curtain near the door.
"Did you pack them all?" He couldn't make out who had said it. The voices seemed to blend and move from the same direction. He listened to the rattling of glass and liquid. The snapping of a latch and the crinkling of the paper on the examination table. He heard a distinguishable voice this time, "...all eighteen vials."
He held his breath as if it would help him become invisible as he heard them walking towards the door. He felt a cool breeze of perfume hit him as they walked out into the hallway. He sighed in relief, knowing he hadn't been caught. He peeked around the corner cautiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of where they had gone. He spied a bit of white lab coat going around the corner to the right and quickly followed after, quieting his sneakers as he went.
The hall still smelled of paper, pencil shavings and cafeteria food. It seemed strange for a mystery such as this to be unfolding in their small town school. He grew anxious as he rapidly approached the hall doors, his reflexion hazily bouncing off the dark blue lockers. He stopped sharp at the sound of the front doors suctioning shut. They had left. He must have been so preoccupied with being quiet that he missed them. He crouched down behind a short wall of frosted glass and watched as the 'doctor' and his dear friend climbed into the back of a white van and closed the door. He stared hard at the image and print on the side of it, trying to burn it into his memory. Villa Marina Charters and Fishing it read, surrounded by a blue buoy and a few sea gulls.
He needed a way to follow them, but how? He didn't have a car and his parents we're definitely not going to let him borrow a car. He spotted the maintenance department truck behind back. He wasn't sure if it had keys but it was worth a shot. He watched as the van turned right out of the parking lot before he raced towards the back exit. He crashed through the doors and let them slam shut, panting and running the entire way there. The bright sunny afternoon stung his eyes as he wrenched at the truck door. It popped open surprisingly easy and it sent him reeling back for a moment. The janitor had graciously left the keys in the visor and he slid into the front seat without apprehension. He had to be quick if he was going to catch them. If only he had listened to her. He wouldn't be in this mess. He should have left on the bus. It was to late for that now. He started the truck and backed out. He just had to know now. He just had to.
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