Status: Work in Progress
Love Song
Whenever I'm alone
The drug house was silent as a grave and for a moment I thought it might be empty. Cautiously approaching the door, I turned the doorknob slowly and pushed it open; glancing left to right, not seeing a soul.
Pulling the picture out of my pocket I studied it for what had to be the tenth time that morning. I crept slowly down the hallway and a noise caught my attention. I turned sharply into a small bedroom and opened the closet door. Bloodshot brown eyes looked up at me, gasping as I pulled at her arm trying to wrestle her to the ground.
“Don’t move.” I say harshly, pressing a knee into her back. She winced as my knee made contact. I quickly moved it, unsure of why I was being so rough with her. Maybe it was because I’d been chasing her for three months. I had to admit that she was thoroughly skilled at avoiding me.
“Please don’t hurt me.” She pleaded, hands shaking as I closed the handcuffs around her already bruised wrists.
I sighed, “I'm not here to hurt you, I'm just here to take you to jail.”
“I know…I’m sorry.”
I chuckled, “That might be a first.”
“Huh?” she asks, as I pull her up from the floor.
“Oh, nothing…I’ve just never had anyone apologize to me.” I say, walking her out to my vehicle.
She didn’t speak the rest of the ride. I took my time driving her to jail. I knew it had to be tough knowing that you were headed to jail for God knows how long. At least I could give her a few minutes of freedom on the way. She’d been running for three months, I figured a trip to McDonalds wouldn’t hurt anything in the mean time.
“Would you like something to eat before I take you in?” I asked, glancing into my rearview mirror.
“Please.” she says weakly.
I pulled into the drive through and ordered both of us some hamburgers. By the looks of her small frame it had probably been a while since she eaten any decent food…if you could call McDonalds decent food. I parked and opened the backdoor, pulling out my key, I unlocked the handcuffs and handed her some fries and a drink then a hamburger.
Sitting the handcuffs down beside her she looks down then back at me, calmly saying, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I'm tired of running.”
“Good to know.” I say as I bite into my food.
Those were the last words spoken between us before I booked Ava Monroe into jail.
Pulling the picture out of my pocket I studied it for what had to be the tenth time that morning. I crept slowly down the hallway and a noise caught my attention. I turned sharply into a small bedroom and opened the closet door. Bloodshot brown eyes looked up at me, gasping as I pulled at her arm trying to wrestle her to the ground.
“Don’t move.” I say harshly, pressing a knee into her back. She winced as my knee made contact. I quickly moved it, unsure of why I was being so rough with her. Maybe it was because I’d been chasing her for three months. I had to admit that she was thoroughly skilled at avoiding me.
“Please don’t hurt me.” She pleaded, hands shaking as I closed the handcuffs around her already bruised wrists.
I sighed, “I'm not here to hurt you, I'm just here to take you to jail.”
“I know…I’m sorry.”
I chuckled, “That might be a first.”
“Huh?” she asks, as I pull her up from the floor.
“Oh, nothing…I’ve just never had anyone apologize to me.” I say, walking her out to my vehicle.
She didn’t speak the rest of the ride. I took my time driving her to jail. I knew it had to be tough knowing that you were headed to jail for God knows how long. At least I could give her a few minutes of freedom on the way. She’d been running for three months, I figured a trip to McDonalds wouldn’t hurt anything in the mean time.
“Would you like something to eat before I take you in?” I asked, glancing into my rearview mirror.
“Please.” she says weakly.
I pulled into the drive through and ordered both of us some hamburgers. By the looks of her small frame it had probably been a while since she eaten any decent food…if you could call McDonalds decent food. I parked and opened the backdoor, pulling out my key, I unlocked the handcuffs and handed her some fries and a drink then a hamburger.
Sitting the handcuffs down beside her she looks down then back at me, calmly saying, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I'm tired of running.”
“Good to know.” I say as I bite into my food.
Those were the last words spoken between us before I booked Ava Monroe into jail.