"What is this?" she said staring in disbelief as police officers carried things out of her house wearing gloves. Cluttering the entire front of her house were police and CIA cars along with a ton of nosy neighbors.
"Christina, I can explain," Anya said as she squeezed her car through the compacted street.
"Is this why that jerk wanted me to go home?"
"I'm sorry."
"This is insane," she said clawing her scalp in frustration. "I know my mom. I knew her enough to know she wasn't a part of anything illegal. Why in the hell are these scavenges rampaging through my house?"
"Christina, I'm-,"
Before the woman could finish her statement, she clawed for the door handle. The door flew open. Anya slammed on the breaks. Ignoring the woman's shocked rebuttals, she jumped out the car and ran to her house.
"Get out! Get out of my house you savages," she screamed, pushing, and shoving a few officers who ignored her so easily this was probably not the first time they did this.
She spotted an officer that looked to be the chief. "Hey. Hey, you. You better have a warrant."
The older man scratched his gray beard and gave her this 'Who do you think you are' expression. If she wasn't as smart as she was she would've beaten that smug right off his face.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, you old geezer," she said then indicating the men exiting the house with boxes and crates of their possessions. "Why are they taking stuff out of my house? We aren't apart of any gangs or any illegal stuff. What is this?"
Anya finally skipped up the steps, face dripping with sweat of panic. "Christina. Please, sweetheart. Let me explain," then to the officer, "My apologies."
Christina stabbed the man's back with her eyes as he walked away. "Anya, you better have a good explanation for this. This is my house. Me and my mom are American citizens. I know what the Fourth Amendment states. You can't search my house unless you have a probable cause and a warrant. What is your probable cause? Where's the dang warrant?"
"W-we have it," she said.
"I want to see it," she demanded. Anya tensed up, scanning the area as if mentally screaming for help.
"I don't have it. Agent Daniel does. Please, Christina. You must calm down," she said placing a hand on her arm. She shivered with disgust and yanked her arm away from the woman's touch.
"Don't touch me."
Christina stormed inside and a dry sob escaped her trembling lips. Everything they possessed like miniature statues, flowerpots, paintings, pictures, books, and such were gone. Even the television, the rugs, and the items in the closets were gone. Men dressed in gray jumpsuits and wearing facemasks were spraying something along the walls and the corners. Whatever they were spraying had destroyed her home's aroma of leaves and trees, and had replaced it with a sour chlorine odor.
Anya must've interpreted her speechlessness as the opportunity to speak for the woman's annoying British accent violated her ears.
"They're spraying for mold. I believe they will be doing it to most of the houses-,"
"No. Don't say another lie to me or I swear it will be your last," Christina said feeling her body temperature rise.
For a few minutes, she thought the threat was taken seriously until she spoke again. "Ch-Christina t-this is p-protocol."
"Protocol for what? We didn't do anything," she muttered, recapping her entire childhood life. It had always been just her and her mom. Never was there a dull moment. They had their normal mother daughter fights, but it never grown abusive. In addition, her mother never drugged her before the other night. Or did she?
YOU ARE READING
Dawn's Pendant
Fantasy16-year-old Christina Ammeen is an orphan. Simple as that. Nothing great or interesting about it. She's bounced from home to home and along the way she's searching for her mother who seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. Only struggle an...