Winds of Change

Chapter Two

--\Chapter Two/--

Getting busted sucks. Even worse is getting busted for something you didn't do. I was sitting on the floor of the small holding stall in the precinct, mentally slamming my head at the cruel metallic bars. I couldn't believe I was spending my Saturday in here. My parents were later to come get me than usual. Good thing I was used to being here. Some may say that is not something I should brag about, but I didn't care. The yellow peeling walls that lined the office area always smelled like bad coffee and fear. It was comforting yet sickening at the same time.

"Well, you look miserable." I snapped my head to face the direction the voice came from. Leaning against the wall behind the shadows was a middle-aged man. He was bald and had a certain sadness in him, I could tell. I turned my whole body to face his.

"Why wouldn't I?" I sighed. "I'm here!" I gestured with my hands. He chuckled.

"So what did you do?" He asked.

"Nothing, in fact, I was wrongly convicted. Only, no one believes me." I grumble.

"I believe you," he surprised me. "Someone who uses words like convicted on a normal basis seems pretty innocent to me."

"Well, I'm not innocent, just in this case."

"I get what you mean. You probably are a kid who is constantly looking for something else to do that will put herself behind the bars, in and out of danger, with all the wrong intentional people. Only one question, how come?" I gave a shrug.

"Attention; what else?" I said lazily. He shook his head.

"I don't buy it for a second. I was the same way at your age. Now look at me; exactly the same. Attention isn't the reason. And I'm not gonna try and guess, either. I'll just say this; Get out while you still can, kid. Or you'll end up just like me." After giving his speech a few moments thought, the cop who arrested me opened the cage door.

"You're folks are here," he said standing with the door open. His bizarre southern accent was really starting to annoy me. Briskly, I walked out of that infernal room. After turning the corner, I could see my crazy mother talking on her phone, (not uncommon. I barely ever saw here without that wretched thing on her ear,) wearing her usual work clothes: gray business attire. Then there is my father, or as I call him, Clark, wearing a dull, pin-stripe suit as if he ruled the world. You would have never guessed all he did was sell cars for a living.

"It's about time you got here," I whined avoiding eye contact. My mother, or as I call her, Evelyn, snapped her phone shut, put it in her little designer handbag, and walked over to us.

"We didn't even need to hear the call. We knew where you would end up soon the moment you snuck out your bedroom window! Honey, you have to at least try!"

"You automatically assumed I'm doing something wrong, Evelyn?" I snapped back at my mom.

"It is hard not to when this s the third time this month we've picked you up from here! Think of what the other parents must be thinking." Evelyn retaliated. I threw my hands up in the air in frustration.

"I don't CARE what other people think!" I was screaming now. People had started to stare, but I didn't care. Oh, that rhymed....

"Baya Patricia Calstor, shut your mouth and get in the car right now." Clark's tone was stern and firm, as if he was speaking through his teeth. I looked up into his stormy gray eyes with my brows crinkled in fury. Then with a flare of my nostrils I stormed out into the car and waited for the long ride home.

The ride was silent. Not a word was spoken, but the tension was tangible. As soon as we pulled up to our large white house, big enough to be a small mansion, I fled up the grand steps and into my room slamming the door behind me.

"Arrrg!" I screamed and threw my hands out. Suddenly, my sheet music that was on my music stand to the right flew all over the room as if it had been blown by a gust of wind. Grunting, I stooped down to start picking them up. "Stupid music, I don't even play the piano much anymore..." I heard my room door creak open and saw a six-year-old girl in a pink, yellow, and green striped gown with short straight brown hair and eyes staring at me. "Molly, what are you doing in here?" I asked gently and in the tone one uses while talking to a child.

"I heard a noise of you, and you sounded angry, so I wanted to show you Tina." Molly said with her horse eyes, darting around as if she was trying to soak everything up. Tina was Molly's rugged, old teddy bear. She, for whatever reason, believed it had magical powers that would make things okay. I didn't blame her though. What else was an innocent kid supposed to do when her parents were always fighting? My only regret was that they were always fighting about what to do with me.

"Aw, thank you, Molly," I said smiling. I gave her and Tina a kiss on the top of their heads and kneeled down next to her. "You know, Molly, everything is fine. I just got a little aggravated. Do you know what that word means?"

Molly nodded her head yes, than gave it a second, and shook her head no.

"Aggravated means angry," I explained standing once more.

"Oh..." Molly replied. Then she skipped off down the hall to her bedroom and I shut the door. I acted okay for Molly, but secretly, I hated getting Clark upset. The way he starred at me in disappointment, the way I then looked at myself, well, it just wasn't very encouraging. He expects me to be bad, so I act bad. Action, reaction. Simple physics.

I was actually very smart at school; I just get distracted too easily. Sometimes the letters get all jumbled up, and I wasn't not sure why. If I said anything, I was afraid they would think, 'Oh another problem? What a freak.' I didn't want that. If you asked me things orally, I'd be an A student. Okay, maybe a B/B-. But close enough. My fist tightened, almost white, when I felt a draft. Weird.... I thought. I turned around and saw my Vera Wang tight black skirt floating mid-air in front of me. I gave a shriek and unclenched my fists. At that exact moment my skirt fell to the floor. "What the-," I didn't finish, remembering Molly is just down the hall. Gingerly, I clenched my fists again and the skirt got blown across the room. A giggle escaped my mouth. I clenched again and directed my hand toward my closet. The skirt reacted by flying neatly into my closet where it belonged. I starred in amazement at my hands.

Oh my gosh, what is going on? This is so awesome! Am I causing it?

I threw my hands forward as if I was trying to swim backward in water and a huge gust of wind blew all my 1D posters on my green wall to the floor.

It is me... Oh the things I can do with this....Is it bad my first thought was to rob a bank? I watch too many movies. The important thing is: Don't tell Clark and Evelyn. They'd ship me off first chance they got. I have to stay cool and act like nothing happened. But first, I want to try a few things.

I walked over to my window and stepped out onto the tree right outside. I wasn't scared that I was three stories up as I climbed down. I had done it so many times before.

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Heyo! Hannah here! So I was thinking, and I would really like some feedback on this story, so if you do, I will dedicate a chapter to you :) I kinda stole that from someone else but it is a good evil plan (muhaha). Ok, you probably, unlike me, have lives to get back to. Ciao!!!! COMMENT!!! VOTE!!!

Love,

Hannah:)