The city wasn't sure on what to do exactly with me at that moment. Well technically, the police didn't know what to do. The area that I'd did arson wasn't city property, and it didn't belong to another city either. . . Nor was it military property. And no one got hurt, and it didn't spread or anything of that sort.

Even though a cop caught me after it was over, I did extinguish the flames moments before the flames got too big. With dirt and water, he said putting it before it spread was smart but I was still going down to the station and my dad was going to get a call about this. I told him that I didn't care if my dad was called or not, it won't bring Peggy back.

He stayed quiet the rest of the way as I sat in the back of the cruiser without handcuffs, cause I got in willingly, so he didn't have to use them. Plus I handed him whatever I had on me.

Dad came down half an hour later, and was told the whole story. He was a bit shock at this, and told them what I had meant by "it won't bring Peggy back." One of the officers suggested therapy, and said that I will be in the system still. Only under juvenile for causing a dried bush fire, but contained it. This even put the chief in a confused spot with me. I was strangely odd from what it seems. I felt someone tap my shoulder, and I saw the police chief looking at me.

"Alright kid, you want to talk about the fire with me?"

"What's there to talk about? It's done and over, so it's behind us now."

"We won't let it make the news because it was just one bush, and it was in the desert too. Plus there was no wind blowing, so that's a good thing for ya. Now why cause it?"

"I was in pain. I didn't know how to let it out. And hurting someone else wouldn't do anything good, except get me into bigger trouble with a bunch of people. Seen it happen before."

"Alright, how about this. Since you don't have a record or that, yet, we'll keep this on paper and you attend some therapy sessions. The judge knows of this too at the moment, and he's still on the line. He agrees with therapy too, and to keep this off of the official records. You're not a bad kid, just a bit misguided thirteen almost fourteen and he still sees a chance that you can do a lot of good one day."

"And I want it to stay on the record? What happens?"

"Still the same stuff, someone might come down and check up on ya and see if any improvements are coming along, but that might be all to it."

"Can we do off the record, therapy for now and someone checking down on me once or twice a week? For five months? And if there isn't any improvement, put it on the record."

"I'll see if the judge likes that idea. Your a smart kid, not like the ones I've seen that just go on and on, getting into more trouble within the time they get brought down."

He soon left me sitting alone on the cold metal bench, and my dad sat down next to me. We stayed quiet for a few minutes till, I looked over at him and he stared down at me.

"Am I really a person that is full of trouble?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Mom. She had a journal about me. Called me a demon, I read it all."

"She's wrong about you, a lot of people are. They don't know you, and classify you by looks. You're smart and sometimes you do a stupid thing, but you make up for it and take responsibility. Now, I didn't take responsibility for not making sure that you were really okay with everything going on. I did a horrible job making sure you were mentally healing well."

"Am I like mom?"

"You're too far away to end up like her. Some right guidance, and you'll come out swell in the end."

I merely nodded my head at him, and we sat in silence as the chief came back to us. Nodding his head at me, he gave me a smile.

"The judge agreed to keep the small fire off the record, but the therapy, and someone checking on ya once to twice a week will be on the record. Just for behavior issues. Said that was enough to make sure tabs kept on ya, and that the person checking on ya kid will go on for two years. So that's one hundred and four weeks with that person will come and see ya. Think you can handle all of that?"

I nodded my head, and my dad spoke up a small bit.

"How long is therapy?"

"We're making it three times a week for ten months. Long as he shows good progress, he might get done with therapy early. But the check ups won't end till two years are up."

My dad merely nodded at him, and I could see that he was going to have a bit of a hard time adjusting to this, but he'll get use to it soon enough. Letting out a small yawn, we both left the station after dad was given the papers and went home. I watched him put the papers in the safe behind the bookcase of the basement, and we both went upstairs to bed. I didn't leave my room for the rest of the night, and stayed inside all day reading books or playing a couple of games on my computer.

Dad stayed home for a few days, till he got the okay to work from home from his boss. So we worked things out during the day, and I knew dad was getting cramped up being in the house all day, and not being at the base where he could check up on everything and meet the people that he works with.

We got use to the check ups after a good three months of them happening, and it just fell into our natural routine along with my therapy sessions. My sessions were the only days that dad could go to the base and do some work. So things worked out in the end for the both of us. I got friendlier with the officers that I met on that night, and they became good friends.

I guess I wasn't as much trouble that I believed myself to be, especially when I turned sixteen years old and I met someone. A girl that reminded me of Peggy. But she wasn't close to being exactly like Peggy, but she had a love for books like her.

And that was the first girl that I fell in love with.