Participants:
| Scene Title | Too Late To Talk |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Koshka returns to her father's apartment in hopes of reconciling, and finds he's left indefinitely. |
| Date | January 10, 2011 |
Dorchester Towers Elijah's Apartment
It had been with a sort of excited worry that Koshka decided to make the trip to her father’s apartment. Since leaving the Garden, she’d been keen to stay close to the temporary living place that had been set up for her and Sable, though the self-proclaimed Den Mother had given free rein to the girl, warning her only to stay out of trouble and be back before curfew. But every day that boundary stretched out a little further until finally she decided to visit Elijah.
The trip to Dorchester Towers didn’t take as long as she’d expected, and the teenager arrived in plenty of time for a visit. Finally she’d have the chance to talk to her father. She wouldn’t be able to tell him everything, but hopefully, hopefully after the fiasco over Christmas she’d be able to put his mind at ease.
Hopefully he didn’t hate her.
Running up the stairway she’d climbed only once before, Koshka moves in haste to reach the third floor. The final flight is taken two at a time, leaving the girl panting in earnest as she enters into the hallway proper. The doors are counted silently as she walks past them, each step drawing her closer to her father’s door until finally…
The hand poised to knock hovers over the heavy door as blue eyes lock onto a note, her name printed in Elijah’s handwriting. Feeling a sudden knot in the pit of her stomach, Koshka plucked up the note instead of announcing her presence, slowly unfolding the paper to read the words written inside.
«Koshka,
I have decided to leave for a while. You have your new life with whoever it is you are staying with now, and you are apparently safe. I have some work that needs to be done, and I must leave. I will return one day.
I love you,
Dad»
Not once, but thrice, Koshka read over the note written in Russian. Disbelief and then panic taking over by the third reading. One hand still clinging to the note, the other lifts to beat against the door. She knocks frantically, the sound hollow and not seeming to resound the way it might if there were life beyond the door. Only one thought comes to mind when no answer comes to her intense poundings.
She’s been abandoned.
It’s a terrible, alarming thought that only tightens the knot in the teenager’s stomach. She backs away from the doorway, feet carrying her a short distance away and then back again. She was just coming back, to explain things, to prove that everything is alright. But now she’s too late, her father is gone. Without knowing why.
Pacing, caught up in the dread of what ifs, Koshka trips over the front mat. A hand catches on the door frame, and as she turns to right the mat out of habit, the glint of brass catches her attention. Stooping, she reaches out to pick up the shiny piece of metal, lifting it closer to see that it’s a key.
The key is fitted into the lock on the apartment door, some jiggling follows, hope surging that maybe, for whatever reason, Elijah had left, but then returned and forgot about the note he’d left. But on opening the door, Koshka finds the apartment abandoned. Sheets cover the furniture and it looks as though her father’s been gone for a few days at least.
Choking against a lump in her throat, the youth steps into the apartment. Blue eyes wide with shock look around, her eyes touching on the furniture and fixtures that she’s only been able to see from the doorway. Then Koshka spots something else. Something not covered against inevitable dust. Woodenly, she approaches and looks down at the object, a cell phone, simple and devoid of the expensive features, but a cell phone never the less.
Anger surges through the girl, hot and panicked. She fights against impulse and, with shaking hands, picks up the cell phone and thumbs it on. She digs into a pocket, fishing out a well worn slip of paper and dialing the number upon it with barely controlled fingers. After hitting send, she lifts the phone to her ear and listens to the ringing from the other end. When the line picks up, her voice is as trembling as the rest of her.
“Brian? It’s Koshka.. —I need a ride…”