Friday Fiction: Gravity

This Friday’s fiction is brought to you by the word gravity.

Harold closed the bedroom door behind him without making a sound. Jason didn’t think he had it in him, but Harold wanted to prove him wrong. The task was simple: all he had to do was make it outside and meet Jason and his lackeys in Surrey Park by midnight.

Harold tiptoed down the stairs, and through the living room. Droplets of sweat fell from his forehead and splashed onto the floor. He muffled his heavy breaths with his shirt sleeve.

Just as he was about to make it out the back door, he stepped on one of Fetch’s dog toys. The squeak echoed through the silent house and off in a corner of the living room, the dog roused from sleep. Harold had just a few seconds to make it out the door. He grabbed the handle, but Fetch ran towards him. The dog leaped at the toy, but miscalculated in his excitement. Fetch crashed into Harold and then gravity took over. Harold was on the floor when the lights flicked on. His mother was standing over him. Harold was caught.