This is continued from here
Miranda jumped up and then raced up the stairs to her bedroom. She wanted to put on some sweatpants and boots before she ran into the downpour. She grabbed her cell phone, two partially maxed-out credit cards and three twenties, her car keys, and her asthma inhaler and stuffed them into the deep pockets of her raincoat. Before storming out the door, she ran to the hall closet and snagged a flashlight.
“Dad,” she prayed. “Dad, please help me find him.”
This wasn’t the first time that she called on her deceased father for help. When she went into preterm labor at nineteen weeks last year, she found herself asking her father to watch over her baby girl. And while she and Scott ended up losing the baby, she felt as if her dad was by her side the whole time. In fact, she could hear him telling her not to worry because Michelle was with him now.
“Dad, I need you to keep him safe.” With that, she ran out the door and jumped into her silver Galant.
There were not many choices now. All she had to do was put the key in the ignition and start up the car, but she was frozen. Where was she going? Where should she begin her search? These questioned raced through her mind searching for answers. There were none. She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and held it to her ear.
“Scott’s cell.” It was a simple command but the force behind it shook the car. As the phone rang Miranda’s heart throbbed in her chest. “Please pick up. Please Scott, pick up your damned phone.”
Nothing. Just the repeated ringing and the endless hoping.
She hung up quickly not wanting to leave a message just in case Scott was OK and she was overreacting. “The police station? No, I’ll drive to his job. That is where he was last.”
Girl, you need to write a book!!
I don’t have time to read your stories right this moment, but the quick glance looks good! I’m a writer, too. Writing is AWESOME.
Just spreading some random love for the blogathon’ B people
Anna