Previously: “We didn't know anything about your father till today. We didn't realize that-” Mark was saying as his throat caught. “We only heard about him today because he was on the news.” he produced a picture and another newspaper article.
James took them, read them, looked at them - still without a word. His eyes widened and he gasped with a sharp intake of breath. “That's impossible,”
Chapter 1.3
It was ten days later. James knew that because he had counted. Ten days, two hours, and twenty seven minutes to be exact. Which he wasn't.
Mark and Hannah – for he could no longer call them Grandma and Grandpa - were worried about him. Ever since The Accident, they had watched his every move and generally been over protective. It was nuisance at first but he knew it was because they worried about him. He still didn't even know why he had gone into a coma. That was the one thing the doctors hadn't told him.
Sure, they had done lots of tests. But each time they came up clear, they had frowned. As if they shouldn't have. He had still been let out of the hospital later in the day, though. For some reason, it felt like the doctors were keeping something from him.
They can keep it to themselves then, James thought sulkily. And then there was this whole business with his grandparents about being... adopted. Well no, not adopted. No-one else had been involved. He had been abandoned and picked up on the steps of a rundown hotel by a couple who felt pity for him.
He preferred not to think about it – every time he thought about it, he started feeling bitter and angry towards his guardians – but every so often he found his mind wondering about it.
Is my father really a murderer? What happened? Did he ever marry (On the photograph Yasmin's name had a different surname indicting that they weren't married)? Why did my mother abandon me? Why did she commit suicide?
Those were just a few of the questions he wanted to ask - but they were were ones that no-one could ever answer. He started chewing his tongue. He always chewed his tongue when he was confused, and he was definitely confused now.
Then he thought about Jake.
Jake was a bully. He loved bullying anyone younger, or smaller than him. Unfortunately, James qualified in both categories. Plus there was the fact that for some reason Jake hated his guts. He would corner James on his way back from school, laugh and jeer at him, punching and kicking him. Sometimes he ripped homework up or threw schoolbooks away.
That meant the teachers didn't like him either.
“Reasonably bright, but can't be bothered to put the effort in.” they used to say. Now it was “Bad work. Bad influence on the school.”. Why, once, they had even asked if he would move schools!
James would have loved to, but Mark and Hannah couldn't afford to. They didn't even have a car!
It didn't matter anymore of course, because Jake wouldn't be there anymore. James could get on with life normally now. Because Jake wouldn't be coming back. Ever again.
When he had gone through the wall, he had broken his collar bone and his skull – James cringed just thinking about it. He had also suffered brain damage. Another cringe.
There was one question lurking in the back of his mind which he also tried not to think about. How had he pushed a boy through a brick wall? He was small, he ran every evening so was quite fit, but not particularly strong.
So how had he done it?
He was interrupted from his thoughts by Mark calling up the stairs. He sounded strained. “James? There's a letter for you.” James sat up with a jolt. He never got letters – who was there to send them? He got up and ran down the stairs before walking into the kitchen where Mark and Hannah were sat round the table.
A lone letter sat in front of the empty chair.
James sat on the chair and slid the letter towards him. He could feel the tension in the air and wondered what Mark and Hannah were worried about. He slit it open noticing that it was hand written. He took the letter out and read it.
To James Royale
We have answers to your questions.
We know what happened on the 23rd.
Meet us outside the Three Horseshoes pub at 9:30 AM on Sunday.
Don't tell anyone of this letter.
The Friends.
James looked up from the letter and looked at Mark. The 23rd was the day of the Accident.
“Well?” Hannah asked. James shook his head.
“It's just a friend from when we went on holiday,” he lied without realizing why. Surely he ought to tell them what it said? He opened his mouth to tell them, then saw the post script at the bottom of the page. He squinted at it, trying to read the small writing.
P.S. we have information about your parents.
He folded the paper up, and closed his mouth. “Who did you think it was?” he found himself saying.
“Uh, we thought it might be the authority's.” Hannah said blushing. James nodded – that explained the tension. He stood up and went back to his room.
At dinner he announced that he was going for his run in the morning instead of in the evening. That night though, as he lay in bed thinking, he wondered why he was doing what the people in the letter – 'the Friends' – wanted. How many times had they gone over stranger-danger in school?
But he knew why. They knew about his parents.
***
James ran down the road at a medium jog. He had already gone down this road three times already this morning. He might be meeting strangers, but he had told his guardians that he was going for his run – that meant if he went in the evening as well, they would smell a rat. Maybe.
He looked at the gadget on his wrist. It showed him how far he had gone and how long it had taken. You could also plug into the computer for a map of where he had been. More importantly, it was also a watch and in the top right corner it said 9:27. James quickly turned it off and stopped outside the pub.
It was quiet at this time of day, and it would look strange for a young boy to be hanging around outside a pub, so he pretended to be out of breath, and did some stretches. When still no-one approached him, he pretended to tie his shoelace.
He stopped and looked around. There was still no-one there. But then why was he surprised? He had received a mysterious letter, from some mysterious group called 'the Friends' who had told him to meet them outside a pub on Sunday.
Sunday!
That was it.
They had just said Sunday. Who knew when they had sent the letter? It could have meant last Sunday, or next Sunday
Feeling better, James started off back up the road after turning the gadget on his wrist back on.
That was when they appeared. They came from nowhere, surrounding him. James cried out as one secured him while another put a blindfold on him.
“You're coming with us,” someone growled in his ear. Not like I have much choice, James thought as he was shoved forwards. He fell forwards and met metal. He groaned. The sound of doors shutting behind him made him feel penned in. Then, the metal underneath him jerked, and he knew that he was being driven somewhere.
Something was pinning him down, so James assumed that most of the men were in with him. He guessed he must be in a van if there was room for him and several other men. Someone muttered somewhere behind him, and he lashed out behind him. He needed to escape!
Every never in his body was screaming at him, telling him to get away. He struggled and managed to half get the blind fold off. He could see out of one eye, and saw a man crawl towards him. Then he felt someone or something clamp him hard, keeping him still. He felt something jab into his shoulder and then he felt nothing more.
I really liked it like I said before good job!
And consider Changing "several other men" to "others" 