Age does (not) matter

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  • Published: 22 Sep 2012
  • Updated: 10 Sep 2012
  • Status: Complete
This is for a competition, so please like+favourite :)
I would like to hear your opinion in this case. Do you think age matters in love?


1. One-shot

The air in the police station felt hot and clammy. My mother walked nervously in circels, not giving me even a single look, her high heels clik-clakking.  Behind a desk a nervous looking, young police officer with red hair and freckles stood, and wrote on his computer. Everytime his fingers pressed a key on the keyboard, it made a clicking noise. The watch on the wall counted every second. I sighed, and leaned back in hard, wooden chair, and tried to relax. But the noise got even higher. Click-clack my mothers heels made. Click-click-click-click on the computer. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

"I need to grab some fresh air." It wasn't my intention to yell, but the police officer and my mother looked at me, chocked. Quickly I grabbed my bag who was leaned by the chair, and got out, before they could stop me.

The cold wind swept over me, causing my hair to tangle. Slowly I felt the tears I had kept in so long running down my cheek.

"Seríously? Get. Over. Him."

I stopped mid-motion at the sound of the voice. I turned around, my face flushing with anger.

"You're still here?" I said it with such a power, that he took a step back. Instead of getting angry he tried to explain himself.

"Look, I know that you're mad at me, but it was the right thing to do..." he took a step closer. To close.

I breathed hard, tears still running down my cheek. It was cold here. Since they had dragged us out here, I had only had little time to take on my clothe, and the thin blouse and shorts gave me only little protection of the november-weather.

"Now there's nothing stopping us from being together," he said low. His face looked pale in the moonlight. Slowly he lifted his hand and brushed away a tear. But I was coming to my senses again, and with a smack I slapped him hard. Confused of what had just happened he took a step back. The red print of my hand had imprinted itself on his cheek, but I regretted nothing.

"You didn't even know what was going on," I yelled.

It felt good to yell at him. The dark, the cold the sudden turn of events. It alt felt so surreal, as if it was a complete other person saying those things.

He looked at me, confused. "I saw you Jenna. I saved you."

Tears kept on tickling my cheeks. I was sad, disappointed and angry. I knew that Max hadn't known. But all reasoning had left my body. All I wanted was to come back to Raz. He had done nothing wrong.

"I don't understand," Max said. He looked thoroughly confused. I turned around. Suddenly I wanted to go inside again. I wanted to know if they had done talking to Raz. Surely they would talk with me too. But would it matter? Maybe they thought I was just a deluded 15 year old. Or that he had forced me to say it. Right now Max seemed understanding. But I knew my ex. As soon he knew that Raz was the reason I left him, he wouldn't stop at any limit.

"You wouldn't." I said. He fiercly gripped  my arm. When I was about to slap him again, he just gripped my other arm. I had sadly forgotten how strong he was. The look in his face at changed. For a minute I had actually thought he would be able to understand, and withdraw. Tell the police that he had been wrong all along. But now I couldn't even understand how I could think such thing of Max. He lookd truly disgusted and full of loathing.

"I was wrong, wasn't I? I thought he was raping you!" he shouted, and I got truly scared. His eyes were gleaming angrily. "You're sick! You know that? SICK!" he yelled.

Tears trickled down my face again, making it even colder. "Stop." It was meant to be powerful, but came out in a whisper. "I love him."

He pushed me, so I feel in the thick layer of snow and I winced at the cold.

"Can't you see he's using you? You're both sick!"

I looked at him, unable to speak.

"6 years! He is 6 years older than you!" He was yelling into the silence. I just lay there, paralysed. 

"But we didn't do anything wrong," I tried to argue. I got up, shivering. He looked disgusted at me, as if I was a dogs ekstrements that someone had forget to clean up on his carpet.

He didn't answer for a while. Then he started again. "I don't care. Who do you think they'll rather believe. It's not like Raz has the best reputation." he looked at me. This must be how the devil looks like, I thought. Charming, yet furious and dangerous.

"It's not fair," I tried. I sank into the snow again, more than ever longing after Raz' reassuring words. But Max didn't care if something he was unfair or not. If something didn't go after his will, let's say our breakup, he would do anything to get revenge. Even though we actually hadn't done anything wrong. I was turning 15 this very day. What a nice way to celebrate ones birthday.

He smiled, or his mouth did, his eyes were full of loathing and said

"Let's see who the police will choose to believe."

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