Finally, a night with only two hours homework! Lol. I thought grade ten was supposed to be easy! School's tough, but I promise I'm getting as much writing in as possible. In the meantime, you can occupy yourself with EvenAngelsFall22 stories and harass her into updating her story!
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The air was stale, and nearly sent me into a coughing fit. There was the distinct smell of sweat. The table looked old and unsteady, but as promised, Dean was chained to it.
He stared at me with an unreadable expression. He didn't look angry or annoyed. He also didn't look his usual cocky or the way I was used to him- scary.
The room was small, and I felt the walls start to close in around me. I felt panicked, but I tried to keep my cool. I knew Dean fed off of that.
"So, Spirit," he said casually, his eyes narrowing. "You're my cousin now?" Around his left eye, I could see a fading bruise, and his lip looked slightly swollen. I wondered how tight the handcuffs were.
And how tight I could make them.
"So, you're quiet. That's cool. You were always better with, oh, non-verbal communication." He was smiling, but to anyone looking, he didn't look angry. He was cool, calm and spoke as if nothing had happened. We were old friends who joked around.
"I meant to ask you when you attacked me in the courtroom, how is Waterboy?"
I was ready to back out of the room. Slowly, I took tiny steps backwards towards the door. I had put my hand on the handle on the door when he laughed.
"Run along, Spirit. You never had the balls to do anything anyways."
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but nothing came out. It didn't matter though. It was like he read my mind.
"That night," he said, his voice softer, deeper. His face had darkened, his eyes angry, intense. "You could have walked away. You could have left anytime you wanted to. I guess you wanted it more than you're willing to admit." He raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you?"
My mouth had closed again, but my tongue was too heavy to say anything. I couldn't think of anything but how he was right.
"And then that little band of yours? I thought you might have actually grown a pair. Guess I was wrong."
I turned around towards the door, touched the handle and turned back around to him. I walked over, my mind racing and my heart pounding, and raised my hand. He smiled in the instant before my hand hit his cheek. I didn't wait too see what he did after the stunned expression came across his face. I turned on my heels, and the door opened as I touched the handle. Spinner was standing holding the handle.
Grinning.
I let the door close before I wrapped my arms around him and started laughing. The last I saw of Dean was my hand print, red on his face.
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The high I had didn't last as long as I had hoped. It was gone by the time I got home.
"And where were you?" my mom asked.
I checked the time. It was only three o'clock. The school shouldn't have even called her. The system was she had to give a written explanation (or I had to forge one) for the next day, or I would be marked as skipping, and they would have eventually called her.
"I. . . why are you home?"
"I got a phone call about eleven this morning." Her tone was sarcastic. I was in trouble.
"From who?"
"The crown attorney prosecuting Dean." Her words sounded rehearsed. "She wanted me to bring you down to her office this afternoon."
"Oh," was all I could say.
"So then I went to the school to pick you up, and take you out to lunch first and guess what kind of shock it was when I realized that you had never shown up for school! Where were you?"
I didn't answer. I just stared at my hands.
"Answer me, Paige."
"Out," I mumbled.
"Out," she repeated. "Out!? So now it's okay to skip school to go out? What was so important that you thought you could skip class and go out?"
I didn't say anything again.
"Hmm?" I couldn't believe how angry she was. "What was so important?"
"Everything!" I shouted. "Everything is more important mom! Don't you realize that I could be dying right now?"
She stood back like I'd slapped her. She looked at me sharply for another minute, then said in a soft voice, "We'll talk about this later, Paige."
"No we won't! You always say that we're going to talk and then you're either too tired, or you spend the whole time talking at me!"
She kept the same low, steady tone to her voice. "I'll take you to the Crown Attorney's officer now, but this isn't the end."
I picked up my purse on the table by the door. "Don't bother doing me any favours. I'll take the bus!" I reinforced my point by shaking the entire house when I slammed the door.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I got to the building where the prosecutors officer was supposed to be and realized that I had no idea who I was supposed to see. I went to the front desk and hoped for the best.
The girl who sat behind the desk, reading a magazine, didn't acknowledge me until I finally cleared my throat. She looked up and raised her eyebrows, as if I were interrupting her.
"I'm supposed to be meting with one of the lawyers today-"
"Which one?" she cut me off.
"She left a message on my machine," I began, amazed at how easily I lied, even when I didn't need to. "And I forgot to write down her name."
She looked me over, then turned to the computer beside her. "What's the charge?"
"What?"
"Murder, kidnapping, theft," she rattled.
"Rape," I said quickly, my voice coming out high pitched.
Her expression seemed to soften when I said that. "What's your name?"
"Paige. Paige Michalchuk."
She nodded, then tapped away for a couple of minutes. "You want to find Jenny Hamilton. She's in office seven."
"Thanks," I said, but still hesitated. She looked up from her magazine again when she realized I was still there.
"Is there something else?"
"No. Thanks." I took a deep breath and headed for the stairs.
The office wasn't hard to find. There was no front desk, but the officer was busy. A young looking guy walked past me.
"Excuse me."
He turned around. He didn't have the same obnoxious look on his face as some of the other men looking around the officer. "Do you know where I can find Jenny Hamilton?"
"Are you Manuella by any chance?"
"No, I'm Paige."
"Paige, good. I'll take you to her office. I'm Mark," he said, offering his hand. I'm her second chair for the trial."
I looked at him like I knew what he was talking about.
"I'm helping out on the trial."
I nodded and smiled. "That I can understand."
He motioned to a sofa outside an office where I assumed she was. "I just need to talk to her for a minute first."
I nodded, and he went in. A minute or two passed, and Officer Collins came out.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Hey, cops don't always make the best witnesses. She needed to talk to me about the trial." He sat down beside me. "So I hear you met my wife and lived to tell about it."
"She told you?"
"I talked to her this afternoon. You made quite an impression on her. I guess you were there long enough to hear about what happened to Dean."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The air was stale, and nearly sent me into a coughing fit. There was the distinct smell of sweat. The table looked old and unsteady, but as promised, Dean was chained to it.
He stared at me with an unreadable expression. He didn't look angry or annoyed. He also didn't look his usual cocky or the way I was used to him- scary.
The room was small, and I felt the walls start to close in around me. I felt panicked, but I tried to keep my cool. I knew Dean fed off of that.
"So, Spirit," he said casually, his eyes narrowing. "You're my cousin now?" Around his left eye, I could see a fading bruise, and his lip looked slightly swollen. I wondered how tight the handcuffs were.
And how tight I could make them.
"So, you're quiet. That's cool. You were always better with, oh, non-verbal communication." He was smiling, but to anyone looking, he didn't look angry. He was cool, calm and spoke as if nothing had happened. We were old friends who joked around.
"I meant to ask you when you attacked me in the courtroom, how is Waterboy?"
I was ready to back out of the room. Slowly, I took tiny steps backwards towards the door. I had put my hand on the handle on the door when he laughed.
"Run along, Spirit. You never had the balls to do anything anyways."
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but nothing came out. It didn't matter though. It was like he read my mind.
"That night," he said, his voice softer, deeper. His face had darkened, his eyes angry, intense. "You could have walked away. You could have left anytime you wanted to. I guess you wanted it more than you're willing to admit." He raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you?"
My mouth had closed again, but my tongue was too heavy to say anything. I couldn't think of anything but how he was right.
"And then that little band of yours? I thought you might have actually grown a pair. Guess I was wrong."
I turned around towards the door, touched the handle and turned back around to him. I walked over, my mind racing and my heart pounding, and raised my hand. He smiled in the instant before my hand hit his cheek. I didn't wait too see what he did after the stunned expression came across his face. I turned on my heels, and the door opened as I touched the handle. Spinner was standing holding the handle.
Grinning.
I let the door close before I wrapped my arms around him and started laughing. The last I saw of Dean was my hand print, red on his face.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The high I had didn't last as long as I had hoped. It was gone by the time I got home.
"And where were you?" my mom asked.
I checked the time. It was only three o'clock. The school shouldn't have even called her. The system was she had to give a written explanation (or I had to forge one) for the next day, or I would be marked as skipping, and they would have eventually called her.
"I. . . why are you home?"
"I got a phone call about eleven this morning." Her tone was sarcastic. I was in trouble.
"From who?"
"The crown attorney prosecuting Dean." Her words sounded rehearsed. "She wanted me to bring you down to her office this afternoon."
"Oh," was all I could say.
"So then I went to the school to pick you up, and take you out to lunch first and guess what kind of shock it was when I realized that you had never shown up for school! Where were you?"
I didn't answer. I just stared at my hands.
"Answer me, Paige."
"Out," I mumbled.
"Out," she repeated. "Out!? So now it's okay to skip school to go out? What was so important that you thought you could skip class and go out?"
I didn't say anything again.
"Hmm?" I couldn't believe how angry she was. "What was so important?"
"Everything!" I shouted. "Everything is more important mom! Don't you realize that I could be dying right now?"
She stood back like I'd slapped her. She looked at me sharply for another minute, then said in a soft voice, "We'll talk about this later, Paige."
"No we won't! You always say that we're going to talk and then you're either too tired, or you spend the whole time talking at me!"
She kept the same low, steady tone to her voice. "I'll take you to the Crown Attorney's officer now, but this isn't the end."
I picked up my purse on the table by the door. "Don't bother doing me any favours. I'll take the bus!" I reinforced my point by shaking the entire house when I slammed the door.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I got to the building where the prosecutors officer was supposed to be and realized that I had no idea who I was supposed to see. I went to the front desk and hoped for the best.
The girl who sat behind the desk, reading a magazine, didn't acknowledge me until I finally cleared my throat. She looked up and raised her eyebrows, as if I were interrupting her.
"I'm supposed to be meting with one of the lawyers today-"
"Which one?" she cut me off.
"She left a message on my machine," I began, amazed at how easily I lied, even when I didn't need to. "And I forgot to write down her name."
She looked me over, then turned to the computer beside her. "What's the charge?"
"What?"
"Murder, kidnapping, theft," she rattled.
"Rape," I said quickly, my voice coming out high pitched.
Her expression seemed to soften when I said that. "What's your name?"
"Paige. Paige Michalchuk."
She nodded, then tapped away for a couple of minutes. "You want to find Jenny Hamilton. She's in office seven."
"Thanks," I said, but still hesitated. She looked up from her magazine again when she realized I was still there.
"Is there something else?"
"No. Thanks." I took a deep breath and headed for the stairs.
The office wasn't hard to find. There was no front desk, but the officer was busy. A young looking guy walked past me.
"Excuse me."
He turned around. He didn't have the same obnoxious look on his face as some of the other men looking around the officer. "Do you know where I can find Jenny Hamilton?"
"Are you Manuella by any chance?"
"No, I'm Paige."
"Paige, good. I'll take you to her office. I'm Mark," he said, offering his hand. I'm her second chair for the trial."
I looked at him like I knew what he was talking about.
"I'm helping out on the trial."
I nodded and smiled. "That I can understand."
He motioned to a sofa outside an office where I assumed she was. "I just need to talk to her for a minute first."
I nodded, and he went in. A minute or two passed, and Officer Collins came out.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Hey, cops don't always make the best witnesses. She needed to talk to me about the trial." He sat down beside me. "So I hear you met my wife and lived to tell about it."
"She told you?"
"I talked to her this afternoon. You made quite an impression on her. I guess you were there long enough to hear about what happened to Dean."