Trust Me

Chapter 6

Trust me Chapter 6

The media is everywhere. Trying to cover everything and anything that happens to our family, there are television stations, like Good morning America! That have cameramen and reporters doing 24/7 watches. Even with my dad being president, he can’t make them leave. They think they know everything, being the people with ‘exclusive’ information, but they have no idea that police have suspects.

I doubted that the coach and Alex would have something to do with Nick’s death, but after I played back the scene in my head, coach wanted Alex to see him, they left the rink, only a few minutes later Nick is dead, Coach and Alex are still not there. It made sense that the police would suspect them, but I can’t see Alex hurting my brother, I can’t see anyone hurting my brother, but someone did.

Once we got off the airplane, we went straight home, with nothing said. We all went to our rooms, when I passed Nick’s room, my heart hurt, it swelled so hard it felt as if someone ripped it out of me.

I keep going, I gave it all to walk past Nick’s room to go to mine, and when I did I immediately regretted it. Because I did the stupid mistake of leaving my television on.

“Breaking news that only FOX can bring you.” This news reporter announced on my television, she wore a black work suit with a bubble gum pink t-shirt underneath, her hair curled, make-up done to perfection with her pearly white teeth glowing. “It is reported that John Murray, the soon to be president. Has lost his son, Nick Murray. Now police do not have suspects, but our reporter Jenny Hanselik has been watching the Murray’s house hold.” The screen split in two, one side with the FOX lady and the reporter Jenny Hanselik. “Now Jenny, what is some new information you have for us?”

In the background, was our house. Jenny was standing right perfectly to see the full view of our house. Her microphone in hand and listening to the little chip in her ear. “Hello Mary, well I have an update on the recent death of young Nick Murray. He died last night in the Verizon centre in Washington. Now police have not named suspects but from what eye witness from the Verizon centre have told me is that they suspect that his sister, Amanda Murray has something to do with it.” I started blankly at the screen, I am a suspect? My heart beat went faster, I am his sister, and I wasn’t near him when he died. Anger rose throughout my body, I watched the screen as it showed family pictures of me and my brother.

What do these people know? They haven’t grown up in this house, they haven’t gotten to know my brother, they probably don’t know his middle name and all of a sudden they get to point the finger at me, they weren’t even there! Rage went through my mind, I took my T.V. and unplugged the satellite dish, unplugged the power chord, I took my little television and threw it against the wall. The small black screen cracked from left to right, I sunk down beside my bed, threw my head in my hands and cried.

No one came in my room to see what happened. And I didn’t want anyone to see me like this, breaking down; I was a wound that was open, unable to close. I felt guilty for leaving a trashed television on the floor; I picked my self up and went to get a broom from the hall closet. I went down on my hands and knees cleaning a mess I had made, trying to pick up the pieces. I threw most of the trashed screen in the waste basket in my room; I put the television beside the waste basket. I put the broom back where it belonged, and silently went to my bed.

For a long moment I didn’t do anything. I started up at my ceiling watching the shadow’s flash from one side to another, I listened the reporters and T.V. crews gather their belongings and leave my yard. I heard the slamming of the van doors, the small chatter between reporters. In a sudden moment my chest, my heart ached for someone, someone that could understand what I was going threw, someone to tell me how to get threw it all, the media, my dad’s new job, my brother.