The Path Fate Takes Us

Chapter 1: Fate Loves To Screw With People

James P.O.V.

"Come along son," said the officer as he led me away from the crime scene.

A man and woman had been shot and killed in a mugging, luckily their son had been spared. However, their son wasn't so lucky as he was now an orphan. Just like me, oh wait, that is me. I had just lost my parents to a low life who had the nerve to kill them after they refused to give up their valuables. The man had stolen something from me that could never be replaced.
My father had been an honest hard working man and my mother was kind and generous and they had never done anything to deserve what had happened, but fate decided to screw them over as it had so many others. Like it had screwed over me. The only thing I had to hope for was that they would catch the bastards who did this.

I shuffled along numbly behind the officer. He would turn his head back at me every once in a while to see how I was, but didn't utter a word. What could you say to a boy who had just seen his parents shot for money and a diamond ring?

"What's going to happen to me now?" I asked the officer. He stopped and slowly looked back at me with a weak smile and pity in his eyes. "I suppose we'll just have to see," he replied, then turned back and continued walking. Immediately anger swelled up inside me, I hated people's pity. It made my stomach turn inside out and my water boil. I didn't need people to feel sorry for me, I could take care of myself. They didn't need to poke their noses where they didn't belong.

"I see," I whispered, as I tried to keep my fury under control. I was so angry. Angry at the officer and his pity, angry at the thug who took my parents' lives, and most of all, at my parents for leaving me alone to navigate the treacherous sea called life by myself. I still had so much to learn and they had so much left to teach me. I couldn't teach myself about a world I barely knew anything about. That's when it really hit me. I was alone. They were gone. My parents were really gone, and for the first time since they died I started to cry.

Tears welled up in my eyes and my chest tightened with pain, though I didn't make a sound. I wouldn't let the officer hear me, even though he would probably be able to see my now tear streaked face. My walking pace became even slower as bitter tears of grief slid down my cheeks. I wanted my parents back. I wished they had survived and just been injured, not killed.

I then bumped into something, which happened to be the officer's chest. I peered up at him with tired eyes. His face was etched with worry and sorrow. He then opened the door to his patrol car and helped me inside. Today's events had been tiring and my recent cry session had drained the last of my energy. I was ready to pass out and as soon as I sat down I quickly fell into a dreamless rest.

*--<0>--*

I awoke to the feel of someone shaking me. I assumed it was my father and said, "Dad stop it I'm tryin' to sleep." "Sorry, but I'm not your dad," a gruff voice answered. My eyes snapped open and memories of recent events flooded my mind. I stared into the officers face for little while before he regained my attention. "That's right," I said in a raspy voice, "My parents are dead and I'm alone now." The officer flinched at my unsubtle statement. "Yeah," he replied, "And we've arrived at the police station, so it'd be best if you got outta the car now." I somberly stepped out of the car and glanced at the building before me.

It was an old brick building. It was tall and had old looking bricks, but still had that beauty that old things tended to have.

"Come along, let's get inside," the officer said as he ushered me towards the steps of the station. We trotted up the steps and I followed him wordlessly to the entrance. As he held open the door for me I got a glance inside. The station was a frenzy of men and women bustling about. I could barely hear over the cacophony of voices. Never the less, I returned my attention to the officer who was waiting for me a few steps away. I quickly walked towards him and we continued through the station. It soon occurred to me that I didn't know his name. Well, when you were dealing with the tragedy of dead parents you hardly thought to asks someone's name. I tugged on the officers sleeve and he paused to turn around.

"Yes, what is it?" he asked. "Sorry, it's just that, I um, would like to know your name," I replied. He gave me a small grin and said, "I'm Officer Stanford. What's yours?" " I'm James. James Barnaby," I told him.

"Well James it's nice to meet you, even though this isn't the best circumstances," he replied. I nodded with a grim look on my face.

"Well, we ought to get ourselves to the chief he'll most likely want to meet you, and don't worry I'm sure everything will get better," he said and then turned to continue walking.