‘Carl, please come down stairs.’
Please. That was something he didn’t often hear.
His stepfather’s voice echoed in the stairwell, ‘Your mother and I need to talk to you.’
He’d known this was coming. This was how good times always ended. Family. What a word.
Everything he needed was in his pockets.
Carl opened the window and climbed onto the sill. There was sadness in this new sense of freedom, he wanted something but not this. Never having had it, he still ached for it.
He looked back at his room. Then he was gone.
#25 in the ‘Beyond the Streets‘ sequence, a series of 100-word flash fiction.