Jack, We're Worried About You

Jack walked back home slower than he’d walked away from it, still thinking about all that had happened. It was so fast, thorugh, so fast. When he reached ‘home’ it was dark outside, but the lights were on inside. It looked homey. Jack walked in, purposely not looking at the garage that he’d built his amazing car, no longer amazing, in. When he stepped inside his mother and fater were in the living room. “You talk to him, dear,” he heard as if his mother was calling out to him. But she was whispering in his father’s ear, she didn’t want him to hear her. So how come she sounded so loud?

“Jack, your mother and I were talking…” Here his mother cut in. Their voices were normal now. Maybe he’d been imagining it. He knew he wasn’t but it was strangely almost a comforting thought.

“You should go to the hospital, dear. We’re worried about you, your father and I. Maybe there are some internal injuries. And should tell the police so they can sort it all out.” Jack simply nodded. Yeah, ok. He’d go.

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