I woke up in the morning and walked down stairs

This was a task set by our teacher, it is the beginning of a story.

I woke up in the morning and walked down stairs. The news had come late last night and after a turbulent sleep I couldn’t bare to be in my house anymore. It wasn’t a home, not anymore, the photos on the wall no longer made it look comfortable and ‘well lived in’, they made it look like a memorial. I wasn’t mournful enough to forget my coat and shoes but I consciously left them anyway because then, it would take slightly longer for my parents to work out where I was. As I carefully unlocked the front door and edged it open, the ice cold breeze smothered my face and I had to momentarily close my eyes. Bad idea. Flashbacks of last night repeated through my mind like I was stuck in one of the screens at the cinema watching the same horror film over and over and over again.

 

I ran. I don’t remember slamming, closing or locking the door. I just ran.