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One.​

I received the very first note on the 12th July, at quarter to nine in the morning.

It was an average summer day, and I sat perched on my usual chair of the classroom. The class had just settled in, and despite the protests of the newly arrived teacher a dull murmur remained in the room. I occupied the desk closest to the window, eager to be distracted from the usual monotonous drawl of the teacher by taking in what was outside. Geography had never interested me.

It was only when the class had quietened down and the infuriating sound of chalk scraping blackboard had begun that I noticed it. A slip of paper, folded into a triangle, taking residence on my desk. Absent-mindedly I unfolded it, feeling as much enthusiasm as the muggy sky outside.

You look good in red.

I started, surprised, then felt my face heat vividly. Now slouched in my seat, I half-hid behind my curtain of hair and surveyed the room. Nobody was looking my way. I felt almost embarrassed for being so jittery and making wild assumptions of secret admirers.

“Adelida, are you listening?â€

I flushed an even darker shade of scarlet, ashamed at the use of my real name. The teacher glared down at me through rose-tinted glasses. I quickly crumpled the note into my fist.

“Yes, miss.â€

Of course, I spent the remaining hour deep in contemplation.

* * *

At lunch I wound my way between the sweaty population, searching for a space to eat. I ate alone these days; it wasn’t that people disliked me, they just didn’t like me enough. I often pondered over what it was- everything about me was generic. I wasn’t odd, I conformed, I had manners and I was average looking.

Ah well.

It was at my locker, returning my bag, that I discovered the second mysterious note.

You left your math book on the kitchen table.

“Mom?†I said, for one wild moment, looking around shiftily. There were a few laughs from my neighbours, and I realised how foolish I was behaving. I examined the note- it was triangular, as before. This person likes habit. And slightly freaking me out, it seems. I was probably better off not thinking about it until more things came to light. The rest of the day passed in a usual, scholarly haze.

* * *


“Hello?†I called, emerging through the front door. Immediately I was greeted by three things- the smell of roasted chicken, a smile from my mother, and an alarmingly loud father.

“Ida, hello?†He called, despite the fact he was now standing mere inches away. He quite suddenly took me by the shoulders. “Are you feeling alright? Ida?â€

I focused on his face, confused. “I’m… fine. Why wouldn’t I be?â€

“Barry, don’t do that.†My mother’s face was stone. He released me from his grip, grunted, and walked into the kitchen. Mom’s expression softened as she took me in. “Don’t worry about him, I guess he’s had a rough day.â€

The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Oh.†I worked my cheek muscles to return the gesture.

“Dinner’s almost done.â€

The conversation felt awkward and phatic. I excused myself and ran upstairs, but not before peeking around the kitchen door. The purple cover of my math book littered the kitchen surface.

* * *

Later, I eavesdropped.

“Barry, please don’t do that to her again. You probably scared her.â€

My father’s answering tone slowly faded to an inaudible mutter. “I just thought...â€

Sighing, I left my listening spot at the top of the stairs and retreated to my bedroom. Only the warmth of my bed and the solace of a good book would distract me from my confusion now. Climbing into bed, I shot straight back onto my feet when I realised my collection of teddies were not alone. A small triangle rested between them.

With slightly trembling fingers I took it into my grasp.

Have sweet dreams, Ida. I’ll be watching.

I wish I could say this thread was an impressive story I'd cooked up, but this is just where I'm posting a scrap from English class. Basically about once a week we're given prompts and have nine minutes to write a description based on the prompt. I wouldn't mind some opinions and feedback, despite how short this is. The prompt was "fast food restaurant".

Spoiler

Artery-Clogging Burgers


It was a sweltering summer evening and the usual crowd queued up inside Grease ‘n’ Go. From outside, the place could almost be mistaken for a venue where decent meals could be obtained, but this façade was broken the second a step was taken through the double doors.

The customers waited impatiently, trapped in the monotony of their junk-fuelled lives. Boards advertised supposedly healthy meals but above the dim chattering of staff members only the sizzling of a deep fry grill could be detected. A faint aroma of sweat and cooked meat lingered in the stuffy air.

The queue of people shuffled forward slowly, uncaring for each other but united in their need for food. Each man and woman in turn felt their mouths water at the prospect of the artery-clogging burgers that awaited them. Small children sat at rounded tables, delighted in the free toys they had received. Their keen ears picked up on the whine of a fly struggling against a window. It alone had the sense to escape death via grease.

This was a busy day, but noise was minimal; the shared urge to eat quickly and leave the sweaty prison kept the customers quiet.