Chapter Text
your point of view.
My parents had been raving about the University of Maine since the day I finished junior year of high school. Not only was the state's climate favorable over the sticky south or polluted west, it was affordable, and the drive wasn't bad.
This was my first free weekend in awhile after starting my senior year. With the weather cooling down and school settling into a bearable routine, what better time to visit and take a tour?
"You know, there's always other places to consider,"
Dad says leaning back to look at me from the driver's seat. "There's no need to rush into things."
That familiar sour feeling fills my stomach as I imagine packing up and leaving everything I knew in less than a year. It's hard to focus on anything in the present when people are constantly questioning you about your future.
"I know," is all I can muster.
Mom chimes in from the passenger's seat in front of me, "There's a gas station up ahead, we should probably fill up."
Hearing this, Dad clicks the turn signal and the car lurches left as we pull up to the nearest pump.
Mom turns back to me, offering cash in her hand, "Hun, will you run inside and grab a Coke for me please?"
"Yeah, of course." I take the money and hop out without a thought.
I step over puddles in the parking lot as I feel the spitting rain over my head. Walking through the automatic doors I'm met with a blast of cool air, followed by the ranking smell of gasoline and old hotdogs. I quickly see a cooler with drinks, grabbing a Coke and walking to the checkout. The cashier is a man, blonde with a receding hairline. He scans the drink without a word and I hand him the cash. While waiting, my eyes wander to his name tag, reading "Victor"
For some reason he feels the need to make conversation.
"So, it's really coming down out there," he says with a sudden studious look, as if he has just now noticed me. "Yep," I respond, clueless to the concept of small talk. He seems distracted, eyes searching around the store behind me as he absently passes me the change. Come to think of it, I haven't seen anyone else in the store besides me and him.
"So what brings you into town?" he questions, distracted. I'm put off by this for some reason. Do I look suspicious? I certainly hope not. "My family and I are visiting University of Maine."
He nods at this as he prints my receipt, handing it to me with the drink. Why am I telling this stranger my weekend plans in exact address? Sheesh. "You be careful out there," he adds, "I doubt the rain is quitting anytime soon." At this point I'm thoroughly weirded out and speed walk out of there, "Sure, thanks."
I shove the money in my pocket and swing the grocery bag at my side. The automatic doors open at my step to once again to reveal... nothing.
The car once idling with my parents is now nowhere to be found.
My legs freeze, like trees planted to the ground as my knees lock. My jaw goes slack as the air leaves my lungs, eyes sweeping the lot in seconds. Once. Twice. Again, and again. I blink hard enough to try and snap out it, blurring my vision, yet nothing changes.
I imagine I'm on one of those survivor tv shows, as you do in these types of situations. Obviously.The kinds you'll tell your friends as a funny story. They'll be back, I think. Maybe they just went into town for something? This is insane this is insane this is—
My phone.
I reach into my pocket with shaking hands, finding Mom's contact and dialing as fast I could.
"We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service"
Excuse me?
So I try again. A third time. I try Mom's, Dad's, the house, even my grandparents. Nothing.
Tears well in my eyes and my breathing quickens for a moment, my mind goes blank. Think. They could've gone into town, they could've texted me and just lost service. Yes, that makes perfect sense.
I slow my breathing and steady my hands as I blink my eyes clear tears. Of course! I'd seen a glimpse of a town before turning into the gas station, just a bit down the road.
I weigh my chances between walking through the pelting rain or going to ask for help from the disturbed cashier. With water beginning to drench my hair and clothes, there's really no point in avoiding it anymore. I make my across the lot, peer onto the main road, and start walking, coke in hand.
• • •
After a few minutes of walking, passing nothing but towering pine trees without car in sight, I begin to see landmarks in the distance. Eventually I come upon a weatherbeaten road sign, reading "Storybrooke"
Encouraged, I continue walking, picking up the pace until I reach the entrance of the town. I'm greeted by stretches of colorful, eclectic buildings on either side, mostly shops and whatnot. A bread company, a drug store, and a wooden clock tower centered amongst everything. It stands high above me, it's massive clock face reading... 3:45-ish?
Eager to see more, my step quickens, still sparsely passing any people. When I do happen to see someone strolling, they stare as if they've seen a ghost. Kinda like how the cashier did... I hope to God this isn't a town of recluses or something.
A cold breeze rocks my body as goosebumps spread throughout my skin, I pull my sweatshirt sleeves across my hands and hold my arms tight to my chest. I'm still holding my mom's coke.
A warm glow catches my eye from across the way; I walk closer, seeing outdoor lights from a house. It looks like... a restaurant maybe? A bright red "OPEN" sign hangs on the window, and business buzzes from within as people come and go. It looks so warm inside...
"Hey!" A voice shouts from down the sidewalk.
My head jerks at this, breath catching in my throat. Expecting to see some attacker, I calm as I see it's just a boy. He looks a little younger than me, shorter with angular features and dark hair. He continues walking toward me. I notice he's dressed much warmer than I, bearing a red scarf, navy overcoat, and a rather large book bag.
"Uh...hello?" I yell back, utterly confused as he walks toward me. I step back as he pauses a few yards away.
"Who are you?" He questions, keeping a respectful distance. I'm taken aback by this. Who does this kid think he is?
"Sorry," he manages, his manners catching up with him, "that was kinda rude." I scoff at him; at least he's aware.
He continues. "It's just I've never seen you around here before, we don't get many visitors."
He steps a few feet closer, yet still far enough.
"I'm Henry"
My turn, "Well, I'm just someone passing through. You wouldn't happen to know where the police station is or..?" I trail off, feeling suddenly awkward. Great, now he's gonna ask questions.
He brightens at this, "Yes! I do, actually. Come with me." As he starts to walk away, I settle that my best option is to follow him. The things I do, I swear...
I jog for a moment to match his pace as we continue down the street. He might be short, but jeeze he's fast.
"So," He begins. Lord, here we go.
"What do you need the police for?"
I consider lying, but decide it would probably do more harm than good.
I sigh, "Well, you see, I'm sort of...lost."
"Lost?" He asks giving me a funny look, then staring off ahead for a moment. "What kind of lost?"
We continue to walk, abruptly cutting down an alley before turning onto another main street. I'm still trying to keep up with him at this point.
"I mean like...my parents kind of...left."
He whips his head back at me, "Left? Why on earth would they just leave you?" We both halt our pace and pause to face each other. He's hardly out of breath, I'm gasping for air.
"It's not like that!" I defend quickly, "At least, I don't think it is..." My voice quiets at the latter, having not yet considered that my parents would genuinely abandon me. That's ridiculous!
"No way, it's ridiculous!" I repeat.
"Well, whatever's going on, I can still get you help if you'd like," he offers a smile. "I happen to be very close with the police chief." Okay, I guess?
We continue walking briefly before stopping at another renovated-house storefront, a hanging sign above reading "Mr. Gold Pawnbroker and Antiques Dealer"
"This doesn't look like a police station..." I offer with a confused look.
Henry checks his phone before entering a code on a nearby pin pad, signaling the "click" of the door's lock, "Trust me, you'll be much safer here." I cannot believe I am doing this. He's 100% gonna murder me.
He twists and handle and pushes the door open, chiming a bell above. I follow him inside and he yells to someone within,
"Guys! Come here!"