Wicked

Everyone in school was talking about the man who had recently broken out of prison and had attacked two guards during his escape, fracturing one's skull with a heavy object and had beaten the other senseless. That night, police cars were all over the streets searching for the vicious and unpredictable criminal. The following day, the news pf the criminal's escape was broadcasted over the radio, television as well as printed on the front page of the local newspaper and everyone was on the lookout for him. I sat in the school canteen, painfully aware of the topic of everyone's discussion and chose to ignore it.

I was the only child in the family and as far as I knew, I had no father, or at least that was what my mother had told me. Somehow, I knew that whoever my father was, he had hurt my mother badly. I could see the pain and tears in her eyes whenever I had asked about my father. Soon, I stopped asking these questions and the man who was my father completely faded from our lives.
However, I would occasionally dream about a shadowy figure in the intense, bright light calling out my name and I would wake up wondering about my father(HAHA!! omg!)

It had been four days since the escape of the dangerous offender and the atmosphere was tense and alert. With the offender still at large, many parents had complained that school was no longer safe and requested for children to stay at home. I strolled into the classroom, dumped my bag on the desk and gazed blearily out of the window at the school grounds. There was a man, dressed in black, wearing a pair of huge sunglasses bigenough to cover his whole face and had the beginnings of a beard. He was standing in the shadows of a building seemingly waiting for someone and would not be noticed unless someone knew where to look. It was pure luck that I had spotted him. I observed the strange man for a few minutes and grew bored of it before turning my attention to my friend who had just entered the classroom.

In the next few days, I noticed the odd man around the school who was jittery and frequently checked if he was seen or followed. However, by now, many students had already grown suspicious of the man in black and walked in close groups. Returning to the classroom from the toilet, I glimpsed a dark figure disappearing round the corner from the empty classroom and sure enough, a wallet belonging to a student in the classroom was reported missing. In that instant, I knew what i should have done long ago. I stepped into the office and reported to a teacher that I had seen a stranger loitering around the school and suspected that it was him who had stolen the wallet.

With the whole staff out in the school compound searching for the mysterious man, it was certainly no surprise that he was found in no time at all. In the past few days, I had been quietly observing him and was curious, thus I wanted ti be there when the stranger was captured. Caught between the school's two security guard and surrounded by teachers and students, the man gave up all futile attempts of resisting arrest. His ridiculous sunglasses were taken off and everyone gasped as they realised that he was the criminal who had escaped a little more than a week ago. In the midst of the confusion, he rested his eyes on me and to everyone's astonishment, tears began to stream down his sunken cheeks.

"Son... My son... Po... I came just to see you," he pleaded with eyes filled with amazement and pure happiness.

The man was being dragged away to the police car which had pulled up outside the school. I was rooted to the spot, stunned. Later in the night, I would hear the story from my mother about how my father had committed petty crimes when I wa sborn as he had lost his job and the newborn would put a greater strain on their financial difficulties. However, one day he was caught red-handed and in desperation, had lashed out at a police officier, injuring him and escaped. Fearing capture, he returned to his house and demanded money from his wife who had refused him. Frustrated and utterly terrified, he had used his newborn child as a tool to threaten his wife. She relented and gave him all she had before collapsing onto the floor, cradling her infant in her arms and sobbing softly. It was not long before the serial offender was caught and put behind bars. She loathed her husband for threatening her baby and to prevent him from ever hurting her child again, she had made sure that I would never meet my father.

I did not understand how this man could have been my father. I shook my head and backed away from him to the dismay of the man. My father held out his hand and reached out to me. his eyes pleading for me to acknowledge him, but I didnt now move an inch. I watched as my father was shoved into the car and itdrove away into the semi-darkness. I knew that I would never see the stranger again.

A.N: school-based stories can be kinda boring.

-jiayi-