Don't Go Back- Part IV | Teen Ink

Don't Go Back- Part IV

July 24, 2013
By oliviajocson SILVER, Normal, Illinois
oliviajocson SILVER, Normal, Illinois
6 articles 0 photos 34 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Learning to love the process."

An hour later the train came to a fast halt. People around her began bustling about, exiting the train as quickly as possible. She gathered her things, grabbing the map she had printed off, from her bag.

She had hoped the weather would hold out long enough for her to walk to the place she needed to get to, but the the rain had started even before the train had stopped. Fortunately she had made the decision to call a cab while on the train. She made her way through the train station and out the doors into the cool fall weather. Large rain drops pelted her as she ran out to the yellow taxi waiting for her.

Slamming the door behind her, she settled into the cab. "Philadelphia University." The cabi looked at her through his rear view mirror, giving her a slight nod of the head. The cab lurched forward, taking them off into the street. Spencer slid her phone out of her bag and checked the time. She had arrived earlier than she had originally thought, giving her plenty of time to accomplish what she came for. She looked out her window at the passing scenery, the city seemed busy as usual, pushing and shoving to reach one of many destinations. She rest her head against the window and closed her eyes.

"Philadelphia University," the cabi called back to her. She jolted awake. It took a few seconds to remember where she was.

"What?- Oh, sorry. Thanks," She said handing him a twenty. She made her way out of the car, slinging her bag across her chest. She pulled out her map as she started walking. The campus seemed quiet yet she could feel excitement pulsing through her veins. She casually looked around her, doing her best to look like she knew where she was going. Students passed her, headphones in; world out. She knew the drill. Brick buildings surrounded a huge lawn where students sat reading or on their laptops. Looking down at her map she entered the building on the far end of the lawn. A large corridor led her into the towering building. It looked older than the other ones she had passed, with it's high ceilings and wood furnishings, it only seemed fitting that it held the history department offices.

At the end of the hallway she reached a wood door with a plaque attached at the top. She scanned the etched names, her eyes falling on the last one. Professor Grunwall. Just as she was about to open the door, it flung open revealing an older man, with disheveled dark grey hair and glasses resting on his nose. He wore a dated suit, his white collared shirt stained from perhaps his breakfast or lunch.

"Hi," Spencer said holding out her hand. "Are you Professor Grunwall?"

He ignored her attempt at hand shake. "I am," he replied. "And you are?" She stuck her hand back in her coat pocket and offered a slight smile.

"I'm Spencer Pearson. I was wondering if you had a few minutes? I have a few... historical questions-"

"My office hours are on the door. Come back then and I'm sure we can work something out," he replied robotically. She figured he received a lot of students at his door, begging for help. He tried moved past her but Spencer stepped in front of him. He looked her for a few more seconds, they're eyes locked in a stern stare."It won't take long, I promise," she added. He pursed his lips together, letting out a defeated sigh. Spencer followed him into his office.

Although the door had listen several names, the large office looked as though it only housed one person. Only lit by the window looking out into campus, the office was dim and musty. The desk in the back was filled with scattered papers and water bottles, very different from Spencer's perfectly neat desk back at home.

"Alright get to it. What do you want?," he said leaning against his desk. She took a seat in the chair cross from his desk.

"I read a lot about you online. You used to work for the government... people really respected you. You must miss it," she replied looking up at him.

He shook his head. "That was a long time ago- I'm sorry, what did you exactly come here for?"

Spencer bit the inside of her lip. "You were let go, because of your interest in a certain topic." She pulled the ticket from her jacket as well as the picture of the girl she found on the internet. He looked down at the items in her hands, and then back at her.

"And you also read that, that was a very dark time in my life. That, interest you're talking about was a result of drug abuse."

She shook her head. "I don't believe that."

"I'm sorry- who are you anyways? A student? A... stalker?" She rolled her eyes and stood up offering the ticket and photo to him.

"I'm not a stalker. I'm curious. Big difference." He reluctantly took the pieces of paper into his hands, his eyes scanning them over and over again. Spencer watched him examine the ticket and photo. "I need your help. Normally I don't like asking for it, but I have no other option. You're the only person in this state, that can possible try to figure out what's going on." He slowly looked up from the pieces of paper, his eyes wide.

"What? What is it?"

He pointed down to the photo and ticket. "You have no idea what you're getting into."

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