This is my Time {Complete}

Part 2: Chapter 13

Allison's POV

The jail is small.

I'm sitting in a holding cell, half the size of my room. Emilio's sitting at a small, lamp- lit desk, with his feet on top of it. I feel bad for the brown, over-used desk, it's way too rickety, and looks like it'll fall apart any second.

I'ts been four hours, since I was 'arrested.'

The plain black clock hanging on the wall, seems to taunting me as I stare at the second's hand. I think it's getting slower by the second.

"Well," Emilio says, with a small half-smile, half-pout drawn across his tired-looking face," that didn't go as planned." he finishes with a small chuckle.

"What? Arresting me without reason, or having to baby-sit me, because you just found out my mom doesn't care enough about me, to come get me, I mean what did you think, that you were her one true love or something?" I say, as I feel my anger boiling.

"Do you really believe, that my mom is a sane, compassionate person? What kind of fairy tale do you live in?!" I say, reaching my melting point.

I wait, expecting some smart retort from him.

But no, he doesn't even throw a sarcastic remark at me, as he gets up from his chair, walks over to the door of the cell I'm currently being kept in, and unlocks the door, holding it open for me.

I just stare at him.

Wow, what I said must of hurt, because as I walk over to him, I get a better view of his face; no longer is there a permanent sarcastic smile on his tan face, what I see now,is a bitter, sad, miserable fool, duped by my mother.

"I'm sorry," he says, as a pained smile crosses his face.

"For what, arresting me?" I say softly, regretting the harsh words I'd hurled at him earlier.

"Well, that was me...... trying to keep you on track, I just didn't want you to end up in prison, like all those other people," he says calmly," you looked like a good girl, just making a few mistakes." he finishes.

I eye him curiously, expecting my mom to pop out of a dark corner and start laughing at me for falling for his act.

But she doesn't, and somewhere deep inside of me, I feel like he's telling the truth.

"Thanks," is all I say, as I walk over towards the exit.

"Bye, kid, see you around.... and keep out of trouble," he says, as a hint of his old smile starts creeping across his face.

I walk home.

As I near the front door, I pause, taking a deep breath, I decide not to go inside, instead I turn around and head for the nearest church.

We used to go to this church a long time ago, my mom and I, we stopped coming when mom lost all hope, she had said that God didn't listen to people like us, that we were just ticks to him, taking and taking all we could get, until he got tired of us asking, and stopped listening.

I see it, about ten feet away. The church is small on the outside, painted white, with a small cross on the top, like in those old movies.

The sight of it makes my heart stir, as I approach the three cement steps painted a dark brown, I see a light that begins to emanate from the bottom of the medium sized oak doors.

I'm pulled towards it, as if my spirit and soul were being pulled by an invisible string, and feeling as if that string were my life line, I walk forward, and pull open one of the soft wooded doors.