Sophie: A Fictional Narrative Essay
She turned the key. Listened to the bolt lower into place, unlocked, and then she pushed against the door
“Oh no!” she shrieked. “Someone has been in my apartment! It’s the doorknob that’s locked. I never lock it. I don’t even have its key.”
“Wait a minute! Without going into grave detail, I might have a little experience with locks.” With effort, Elliot knelt to the door and vigorously jiggled the doorknob.
Benny flicked Jacob’s note over his shoulder. “Some friend.” “Jacob would never enter my place without permission, “she said. “Elliot, can you really break in?”
“Do you have a hair pin?” he asked.
“Yes, in my cosmetic bag.” “Where’s your cosmetic bag?” “In my bathroom!” “What good does that do?” “Let me take care of this.” Benny marched to the door, placed his leg under the knob, and in one swift move jammed up his knee breaking the knob apart. “Now, there’s no reason to worry about anyone using that lock again.” He let the door swing open.
Tick, tick, tick.
A deep swell of anxiety soured her stomach. She flipped on the hall light. The square walls of her condominium appeared small and claustrophobic. The refrigerator droned in time with the ticking of a kitchen clock. The familiar sent of candles and poppori were missing. Her little plant had withered to a single leaf sticking out of dried dirt. A blanket of dust covered everything.
“Home again—home again, jiggity-jig,” she said as they entered. “Someone was definitely here,”