Here we go. I’ll start with a little snippet of my life: what I did today. Answer: absolutely nothing. It is only 1:30. All I’ve done so far today is make my bed, attempt to clean my room, check my emails, and eat one pancake for breakfast. So I’ll just skip to the story now. It’s a long one:
Briefcase in Hand, Chapter 3
“Hey, don’t cry. No no no, don’t cry, it’s okay, shh…”
She’s been crying for a while now, and we’re still on the floor in the middle of the train car. I’m doing my best to comfort her, but it’s hard to do when she won’t even look at me or reply or even move at my touch.
I run my fingers through my hair, sighing and looking to the side so I can see the window. The only thing I can see from here on the floor is the dark, cloudy sky and the raindrops on the window- it started raining soon after the man left us locked in this train car. Turning back to the girl, I find that she’s looking me, finally, but tears are still running down her cheek.
I almost smile at her, but after taking into count that she is crying and that a man with a gun locked us in a train car and threatened us not long ago, I realize that may not be the best idea under the circumstances. Maybe I should say something.
“Hi…” I start tentatively, “Better now?”
She nods, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Can you pretend I wasn’t crying?”
I laugh, “Sorry, honey, it’s a bit too late for that.”
She exhales. “What’s your name?”
“Zachary. Zack, if you please, madam. Yours?”
“I’m Dawn.”
“Dawn. Hmm.” I squint at her. Does she look like a Dawn? I’m not sure. If she were a small town girl, maybe… “So, Dawn, who are you? How did you..get here?”
“Why would I tell you that?” she sniffs.
“Why not?” I adjust my hipster glasses and look at her.
She blinks and relents, “I was at a dentist appointment. The dentist put me under and..I woke up next to you. With..the briefcase.”
We both look at it instinctively. “Have you..tried opening it?” I ask.
Dawn shakes her head, “How could I? You were with me the whole time. I only woke up a few minutes before you did.”
“Oh, no, honey, I just assumed that you’d somehow opened it without me realizing it when the man with the gun wasn’t looking.”
“Will you stop calling me that? I told you already, my name is Dawn and I’m exactly the same age as you, so stop calling me that.”
“Sure thing, darling. Now, the briefcase?”
She nods and we turn our attention to the black briefcase lying between us. “It’s locked.” she notices, touching the little silver padlock with her non-handcuffed hand.
“Wait. Look.” I run my fingers over the words written on the briefcase in what looks like black permanent marker.
“What does it say?” Dawn leans down closer to the briefcase, her hair falling into my face. I blow it away and put my face to the side of the words so I can read them using the light reflecting off of the black words:
For Zachary Saunier and Dawn Lowry -Open Me
Bye! Keep calm, drink lemonade-
(very tired) Daniela