A phone shake from home (short story)
My phone shaked in my pocket. I looked over at my friend who were deeply focused on mashing the buttons on his game controller. I took out my phone and looked at it.
“Come home” it said. It was my brother.
I put my phone back in my pocket and put my eyes on the TV again. Another shake in my pocket followed soon after.
“Our stepdad is making trouble” it said in the second message.
He was away on a business trip and was not supposed to be at home. How could he be home already? Two weeks he said. I shortly and quickly told my friend I was sorry that I had to leave immediately. I jumped on my bike and rode faster than I had ever done. Up the streets and back home.
The atmosphere was tense when I arrived. Our stepdad was very controlling and negative in his way of being. He had company too, his loser friend and sister where there too. To support him in throwing out kids on the street for no reason.
He had a mad look at his face and a very strange tone in his voice. We were followed around the house and instructed what to and what not to do. In our home?
“Get what you need for a couple nights. Only the most important. And leave.” he demanded.
I went to find my toothbrush and a new shift of clothes. What was going on? Why was he here? Why were we told to leave? Questions floated in my mind as I put my things in a plastic bag.
I found my favorite books and put them in a bag too. He could take my games to enjoy and the few other toys I had if he really wanted them, my old cheap clothes too, but my books he was not going to take from me. So I took them with me.
My phone shaked again. This time a message from my mom.
“I need you to do something very important to me.”
Where was she anyway?
“Inside my bedside table you will find a very important document inside an envelope and I need you to bring me that.”
That was a difficult and challenging task to do with three snakes following me around. My ability to act discretely came in handy this day. We were all shoved to the front door at this point in time, but I casually told them I had to go get something small upstairs and that I would be back shortly.
I ran upstairs and went silently into the bedroom, opened the bedside table and found the envelope. I sneaked it under my t-shirt and put my t-shirt in my pants to make it hold the document up without needing my hands. My improvised solution on how to cover the document seemed to work as I joined my brothers with a plastic bag in each of my hands. We went out of the front door. And left our home.
We were homeless.
Homeless, we were…
Were we… homeless?