Through the Dark

This story is about a girl named Paige who gets teased at school. She loves soccer and has a crush on a guy she knew since she was young. She joins the soccer team to impress him and she's one of the best players on the team. Although she leads the team to victory her teammates tease her just because she doesn't "fit in".

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6. How am I going to fix this?

       We're sitting in the fifth interrogation room today. We didn't go to school, instead we went to the hospital and the police station. I don't really know why we had to go to the hospital for this, I mean, they're only bruises and a bloody nose, I think it's law. This is the first time we've been alone since the police came.           

      "Chason, I'm sorry, I-"  My throat catches, I can't believe I let my dad do that. How can he lay his hands on someone else's kid? How could I let him? I've gotten used to the fact he beats me, but he can't just do this to whoever bugs him! He was my only friend and now he might leave me. "I'm so sorry! This is all my fault!" I can't look at him. He knows what I try so hard to keep secret.

       "Paige, how could this possibly be your fault?" How can he not see? It's so obvious! 

      "If I would have just kept to myself, if I would have kept you out of my head! None of this would have happened! You wouldn't have to be here, you could be at soccer practice, you could be having fun! You wouldn't have been hurt! If I could have just left up my guard! But instead I had to be selfish, knowing my father could hurt someone I cared about!"

      "What would have happened to you then? If you had shut me out? Where would you be? Would you be in the hospital? Would you have died? I could care less about your dad, I care about you." I look down at my feet as if they'll have an answer for him. My father has no right to touch anyone I care about. He has no right to eat Peter and me out of house and home. He has no right to lay a hand on me.

      "I would've been the exact same as before I met you." This time we stay silent. The white walls and faded blue tiled floor the only thing to look at. 

      In a few minutes Chason's fallen asleep, who could blame him? It's been a long day for both of us. I would fall asleep but we're still at the police station, with Dad in the back in one of the cells. Outside the room we're in are officers, but I still don't feel safe. I sit down on the floor next to him, I can't stand the chair anymore. I lean my head on the white cinder block wall, there is nothing to do but wait. 

      I'm about to fall asleep as well when the door slams open. I jump to my feet, ready for anyone who comes. It's Peter and Mrs. Falk, Chason's mom. Chason wakes up beside me, he looks a bit confused. His mom rushes to him and hugs him, Peter the same to me. Now I feel safe. Peter has always been there for me, I will always feel safe with him. 

     He pulls away from the hug and looks toward Chason, who's mother let go of him. "Thank you." He holds out his hand to shake Chason's but he pulls him into a hug instead. Peter is close to tears, while Mrs. Falk is already crying. "Thank you." Peter repeats and pulls away. I can tell he means it, he never cries or hugs, or show much emotion through touch. 

      "I think it's time to go home, they said all the interrogations and things are over, but they want you two to speak in court." Peter explains. 

      "You mean, to put him in jail?" he nods and starts to leave. 

      Mrs. Falk grabs him by the shoulder lightly, "Maybe you could come to dinner at our house?" I can see Peter stiffen, but he relaxes and agrees. 

      We all ride in the same car because Peter was brought in the police car. Chason and I sit in the back, Mrs. Falk drives. We ride in silence, so all there is to do is observe things. Peter always said that I'm good at that, but who isn't? It's just looking around and making mental notes. Mrs. Falk has a few gray hairs mixed in with her almost black hair that flows down her shoulders. She wears a purple flowery shirt and jeans. Her eyes are barley visible from the back seat but they're blue, like Chason's, both her hands grip the wheel lightly, but firmly enough to feel safe when she drives. 

      Chason sits behind the driver's seat and stares out the window, his hair is dark blonde, a mix of honey and gold. His eyes are just like his mother's. He's tall, a few more inches than I am, I'm about his mother's height. I can tell he's thinking about something, probably this morning.

       I look out the window to see the wheat and corn  fields, a few flocks of birds sit on the power lines, I slowly drift to sleep.

 

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