Beckoned

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This story must contain the line, "We're going to be late again."

Beckoned

Bobby focused on the ground and picked up the pace.

Don’t look up. Just keep going. Just keep going, he repeated over and over again to himself.

He didn’t hear his sister calling for him to slow down. He didn’t notice his breath start to quicken as The Fear began to grow in his chest. He didn’t notice the rain beginning to fall or the sudden blustery gusts blowing head on, as if trying to slow him down.

Don’t look up. Just keep going…

Bobby could only see the sidewalk in front of him. It was just him, the cement and the lines.

It wouldn’t be long now; less than a hundred yards to go.

The slabs of the sidewalk begin to age; each one more cracked than the one before. Weeds were starting to sprout through the cracks and in some places, the slabs had been lifted slightly.
Don’t look up…

The wind was blowing hard now. He could barely walk. He could hear the wooden gate banging against the fence. The wind – it was howling. It was too much.

Bobby stopped and looked up.

There was the old Henson place. It’d been abandoned for so long, that most people didn’t even notice it any more.

That was before something strange and unseen had moved in.

Now it called to Bobby. He could feel it; almost hear it. The house and whatever was in there wanted him. Every morning on the way to school, he had found himself stopped in front of the old place. He wanted to go in. He needed to go in. He couldn’t help himself.

“We’re going to be late again.”

His final words to his sister, “Run Susie. Run!”

The house called out to him again. Helpless, Bobby stumbled up towards the front door.

Word count 300