It was the darkest of nights. The rain lashed the parked cars like whips on ice, it's noise an invasive species, choking the air out of any other sound that dared to rival it. Thunder roared to add to the cacophony but it was barely able to matched the decibels of the rain. Lightning struck the sky, allowing a brief glimpse of the world before returning to whence it came. It was almost like a deity had called forth the heavens with wrath.
Inside the hospital it was a different story. People ran around frantically. Red covered the white sheets of hospital beds as people rolled victims to surgeries. Lightning surged once more and all the lights went out. People halted in their tracks, scared of bumping into each other until the back up generator began running. The lights came on and so did the noise as if the two were mutually exclusive.
Inside, a woman quietly sobbed. She was dressed in hospital garments. She wept alone and held her bloated stomach. "Help" she whispered but no-one could here her. Everyone was occupied. A man came in wearing a suit and he quickly rushed to the bed holding the woman's hand.
"Shhhh Sarah" The man whispered. "Don't worry, I will get someone to help."
She grasped his hand tighter. "No, I don't want you to go!" She cried, both of her hands on his. The she roared in pain. The man's panic heightened considerably.
"Darling, I must! I -"
"-Something doesn't feel right." She said, her eyes wide. "Don't leave me alone here."
"What with the baby? What do you mean?"
"I mean with everything! I ca-can't explain it! Just don't leave me and Pempton alone." She screamed again. This time it was blood-curling. "I did something Joseph and"
This time when she screamed it was like something was ripping her apart. Her grip on him slackened as pain swallowed her. The man couldn't take it.
"Sarah, just wait here, I promise I'll be right back. I need to go get help."
He ran out of the room faster than a shotgun. Seconds later, he came back with a doctor. His expression dissolved from stress to absolute dismay. Sarah was gone.
All that was there was a little baby boy.
###
"All that was there was a little baby boy!" The teacher read outloud. She looked up and looked straight at Pempton in the eye. "This is amazing Pempton" she said.
He nodded nervously before looking at his shoes.
"How you manage to get so creative, I will never know!" she said kindly.
He shrugged and looked back at her.
"You know there's a young writers award coming up! You should finish this for it."
"But I don't know how it ends" He said nonchalantly.
"Not to worry, I'm holding an after school class about creative writing! You should come! I'm sure if you told your parents and showed them this, they'd happy to let you attend!"
Pempton stood up and smiled. "Thank you, Mrs Langley. I shall definitely ask them!". He stood up and turned to leave.
"I look forward to seeing you there, Pempton" she said.
He left and began walking home. The truth was that he wouldn't be attending because his story wasn't fiction. It was his reality. But he wasn't going to tell her or anyone. No reason to make himself stand any more than he already did. He had bleach white hair and piercing green eyes. He wasn't too tall for a 17 year old and he had a slim figure. He'd caught the eye of many girls in his year as well many bullies but from his experience, life was simpler just blending in.
What the school didn't know or simply wouldn't recognise because of the institution's fickle nature is that he didn't need to go. He had already created a fake persona and graduated university by the age of 12. Many universities didn't actually require physical attendance and so he had set up a direct debit with one of the students with agreements to write his name and forge his signature on the sign in sheet.
He also went to school to keep his intelligence and reputation a secret. He did averagely on purpose on most tests and made it look like he was adequate to fool the systems. Most governments had a notorious secret that they kept an eye on everyone's personal records and the only way to avoid unwanted attention either from the media or the authorities was to digitally camouflage yourself. Which is what Pempton did. In the meantime he'd use the school lessons as a vehicle to brainstorm and run scenarios. Only occasionally, he'd use his phone on breaks to re-invest his wealth into different stocks.
He walked to the bus station and caught the bus all the way out of town. This was another method of digital camouflage. Then he walked another 20 minutes till he got to his estate. He walked down the courtyard and opened the big grand doors. Harold was there to greet him. As always.
"Master Young." he greeted him with. "How was school?"
"Pointless. As always." He said neutrally throwing his blazer onto the banister. "Any news on my father?" He asked as he climbed the stairs.
"I regret to say, not as of yet, however you do have a scheduled meeting with the solicitors for your father's company. I believe they are here to draw up the papers for your share of organisation."
"They can wait" He said as he walked into his room. Along the wall spread grand world map. On different locations there were pictures of people and notes with writing and string lines, connecting everything together. "My father comes first". He looked at the wall long and hard, rubbing his chin. He could feel the hairs of a new beard on it. "Where are you old man?" he whispered to himself.
He took a step back and breathed. It felt like he had exhausted every option. He rested his hands on the large oak table behind like he always did and tried to look at the map at a different angle but something brushed his knuckle. It was a box wrapped in brown paper. It had string wrapped round it and the name 'Pempton' scrawled in fountain pen. It was undeniably his father's. He picked it up and it felt heavy.
Suddenly there was a a loud bang downstairs like a wardrobe falling over followed by a metallic pang. Pempton's head snapped up from the package and looked at Harold whose eyes were wide with fear, before returning to anger, his brow furrowing with rage.
"Don't worry, Master Young, I shall deal with this at once." He turned to leave.
Pempton looked back at the package. He had a choice to make. He could open the package or he could deal with the ruckus downstairs.
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