Fly Away


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4. Questions Arise

 I opened my eyes to see a bright light. 

"What do you have to say for yourself, punk?" A young voice growled.

"It was all my fault. Please... don't hurt my family." I cried.

"Depends on who your family is." The voice laughed.

I kept sobbing, tears rolling down my face. I saw the person move the flashlight away from my face. There stood a young boy, about a year younger than I.

"Who are you?" He growled.

"Wait... aren't you a police officer?" I asked.

"No, and are you on drugs?" He asked.

"Where am I?!" I shouted.

The young boy hushed me.

"Why am I here? What happened?" I asked, looking around.

"'I found you sneaking around in our woods. It's called trespassing. I demand you get off of our property." The kid said.

"Wait... trespassing? Our?! Who is with you?" I asked.

"None of your business." He smirked.

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