The Secret Life of Usha [Being Rewritten ]

Chapter 3

Hey guys! :D I'm so sorry it took so long to upload, I've been struggling to write down all the ideas I have for this book, and it's been interesting. I'll probably be updating in like a week or two due to stupid homework! But I've finished my language arts project, so I'm happy. When I finished it though, I literally jumped around my house yelling, "I'm done!". This chapter is dedicated to Mia_More because she drew that awesome picture. She has gift, even if she won't admit it. Ok so enough about my boring life, here's the story.

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Chapter 3

          Ugh, they just keep asking question, after question. When am I getting the heck out of here? I thought we were done with the stupid questions when we got in the police car with Vicky; however the guy we first encountered in the woods started in on the questions again much to my dismay. Both Clarinda and I must have both come up with the same idea of acting as if we were both deaf because neither one of us are acting as if we even noticed. The only question we decided to answer was the one about our names.

*Flashback*

          I lightly shut the car door behind me, and fastened my seat belt. Waiting in the front seat are Vicky and the policeman who was the first responder to our emergency call. Noticing my friend Clarinda giving me a nervous look out of the corner of my eye I quickly reassure her with a quick look telling her not to worry everything will be ok. I then gave a quick shake of the head letting her know to not answer their questions and then stared out the window, mute.

          “As you know, I’m Vicky. And this fellow is Ben.”  She said, turning around in her seat giving us a friendly smile.

          “Hi.” Ben mumbled. “What’s your name?” He asked looking at Clarinda, who is still looking out the window as if the passing scenery were the most interesting sight in the world.

          After a few seconds of an awkward silence, I answer for both of us. “I’m Usha, and this is my best friend, Clarinda.” I stated matter-of-factly.

          “You got a last name?” He pressed for more information not wanting me to leave out any detail.

          “She’s Clarinda Foster, and I’m… I’m…” I stuttered, realizing that I don’t even remember my last name.

          “It’s okay; you don’t have to answer right now. But we’re going to drive you and Clarinda to the police station while other policemen take Kevin to the station too. Are there any family members you’d like to call?” Vicky asked, luckily ending the questioning between me and Ben.

          With caution, I glanced toward Clarinda and notice she was shaking her head discretely no. Apparently she was listening. “No.” I stated, with a hint of sadness in my voice. “Will we have to see Kevin?”

          “No. All she’ll need to do is give us a quick statement describing how Clarinda received those bruises on her arms. We will also need to take pictures of any bruises, cuts, or any other injury so that there will be proof if needed at a later date. ” Ben informed us while carefully keeping his eyes out the window.

          Not liking what was said Vicky gave him an angry look while buckling her seatbelt then sat back with a disgruntled look.

*End of Flashback*

          We arrived at this huge building, known as the police station, about five minutes ago. Clarinda just finished making her statement, explaining how her dad started to abuse her after her mom died. It seemed this would always occur when her dad threw tantrums about her being just like her mom and how she was even starting to look like her. Of course, this usually occurred when he became drunk.