The long walk

The old-fashioned black phone rang for the fifth time that morning and, for the fifth time, Quinn absently ignored it. He sat alone in the warm-colored living room, perched on a wooden chair facing a blank easel. The ringing paused for a few minutes but, sure enough, it began again.1

Quinn started-- knocking his almost-empty glass of water over-- as if it was the first time he had heard it ring. He stared suspiciously at it for a moment, then, on the fourth ring, picked it up. 'Hello?' he questioned. 'Quinn! where have you been? I've been calling and calling!' It was his older sister who was at college. 'Why?' he asked her, 'I mean, why did you keep calling?' 'Well,' she paused to take a sip of something (most likely coffee), 'I finally have a time that I'm not in class or studying, and we haven't talked in a long long time...' After a long silence on the other end, she quickly summarized, 'God Quinn, I just missed you, that's all.'2

Quinn smiled-- for probably the first time all week. It was nice to know that she wasn't always too caught up with homework, and parties, and boyfriends, and coffee to miss him every once in a while. He told her about how pretty the leaves outside in the yard have looked lately, and how he wished she were home so that they could paint them together. Just as he began to really open up about everything going on lately, he heard some loud voices in the background. 'Sorry, Quinn. I'm gonna have to go now!' Quinn didn't bother to say good-bye before he angrily, but gently, hung up the phone.3

He returned to his easel and began mixing paints with no apparent expectation in mind. After he turned the colors all to a sufficient pukey-brown color, he got up and walked into the kitchen. It was very neat and bare of all extra non-kitchen supplies-- besides a couple opened letters on the table. They were from Quinn's teachers. Apparently they 'saw great potential' in this all-'A' student. Quinn reread each letter quickly, then crumpled and placed them in his pocket.4

He made his way to the window and, after turning on the faucet of the sink below it and drinking from his cupped hand, looked out the window. It was unusually foggy that day. He checked his watch and realized that his mom would most likely be home in an hour or so.5

Quinn retrieved a pen from a drawer, and wrote on the back of one of opened envelopes, 'I'm going on a long walk.'
He was found three days later in the creek a few blocks away.6