The Life of Cassie Ellison

The Life of Cassie Ellison :6:

Chapter 6 

So Jacob and I went to the police department. Once there, we went in and I asked to speak with one of the officers. The officer that I talked to was the lady who asked me if I had anywhere to go. "I remember you, survivor of the St. Ann's massacre." 

"So that's what you guys are calling it?" I asked my eyebrows raised. She chuckled. 

"Not very creative, is it? Anyway, what can I do for you?" 

"Actually, I have a request." 

"Oh? What is it?" 

"Would it be okay if I went back to St. Ann's to get something from the room I had there?" She blinked in surprise. 

"I didn't think you'd want to go back there, but let me talk to my boss." I nodded and she went to a door and knocked. Jacob and I shared a look and shrugged. She comes back and says that it's okay, as long as she came with us. 

"Okay." So all three of us walked to St. Ann's. When we walked inside, I noticed that there were bloodstains everywhere. 

"Wow, when you said they were slaughtered, you weren't exaggerating." Jacob said, looking around as well. As I walked through the familiar hallways, flashes of all the brats running around ran through my mind. I remembered all the times they pinched me, shoved me, and pulled my hair. I remembered it all. The pain and sadness I felt after they did all those things. The betrayal I felt when the adults didn't believe me when I told them what the brats did. The sadness and hurtfulness I felt when all the families avoided me. I brushed all those memories aside as I came to the room that was once mine. It was the same as I left it. I crawled under the small bed and pulled loose a floor board and set it aside. I pulled out my scrapbook and put the floor board back. I hid it so the brats wouldn't find it and tear it up. I got back out from under the bed with my scrapbook and stood up straight. My scrapbook was purple with my name written on the front in black ink, its letters elegantly sprawled across the front. It had black cloth fringes on the edges. There were some stickers on the back with band names on them. I felt like I finally had something that belonged to me and to me only; nobody else. 

"Is that all you came for?" The officer asked. 

"Yes." 

"Then let's get out of here, shall we?" Jacob and I nodded and we left. I looked back at it one more time, and then the officer went back to the police department and Jacob and I walked towards the park. We found an empty jungle gym and climbed on top and sat down. 

"Are you going to be okay?" He asked, concerned. 

"Yes, why?" 

"Well, when we were at St. Ann's, you kind of spaced out." 

"Oh, sorry. I'm fine, really." I said when he raised his eyebrows.  

"Alright, now let me see that horrible poem of yours." He said grinning. I smiled and opened my scrapbook. I flipped to the page that had the poem and showed it to him. "Holy crap. What is this? I don't even understand what its saying." 

"See, I told you I suck at it." 

"I'm just joking, but you're right. You do suck, but I bet, with some practice, you could be really good." 

"Yeah, but I wouldn't know what to write." 

"Write what's in your heart. That's what my language arts teacher told me at my old school when I couldn't think of anything for our free writes." He said shrugging. 

"I guess I could try again." He grinned. 

"That's the spirit." I smiled and hit him on the shoulder. "What was that for?" He asked pouting.