Dig A Little Deeper

Logan

                                                                        Tuesday, March 2. 12:30pm 

I slipped my sunglasses back on and gripped on my steering wheel  nervously as a tall overweight cop with pickled eyes and stringy blonde hair approached my car. He tapped lightly on the window, obviously telling me to pull it down. I gulped nervously as I slid the window down, the officers tiny but intimidating eyes, sizing me up and down.

"What are you doing down here, young man?" said the officer as he pointed accusingly at me. I scrunched up my nose and winced as the odor of coffee breath hit me at once.

"Nothing officer...just driving to school," I said trying to sound casual. My hands shook even more as the officer looked deeper into my eyes, as if he could see through me.

"Son...its 12:32. I'm pretty sure school has been on since around 8:00 A.M." said the officer suspiciously. "And didn't you see the Detour signs while you were driving on the road? The roads are closed. There's been a pretty gruesome accident and it's still under investigation," said the officer. The officer looked back at the surrounding police cars and ambulance trucks while shaking his head. "Its been all over South Central news this morning and on the South Central radio so I'm sure you've heard about it...a minor was found trapped between  the remains of a smashed car and a tree. It was a gruesome looking scene. When she was found she was pronounced dead upon arrival."

All of a sudden my heart pounded in my chest heavily as I gripped the steering wheel tighter, more perspiration cascading down the sides of my forehead. So Alia really was dead and this was all over the news? I didn't even bother to turn on the T.V. when I left the house earlier. My heart pounded even harder as the officer gave me another hard look.

"You probably attend South Central High School right? The body identified was Alia Whitaker. Does that ring a bell to you?" said the officer.

   My eyes felt as if they would bulge out of my head. 

"Sounds f-f-familiar" I stammered as I looked down at my lap. "Maybe I could take a look at my school's year book...I've probably seen her a few times in the hallway."

The officer sighed, once again looking back at the accident.

"This case seems like it's going to be a big one...it looks like Ms. Whitaker was accompanied by a few other people.  stray alcohol bottles were found around the scene of the accident too..saw some foot prints around the forest near the scene of the accident. Looks like maybe she wasn't alone and someone knows what happened to her last night."

I felt like I was going to puke anytime from now but I decided to keep a straight face and just lie through.

"Do you think Alia was the driver?" I said hesitantly knowing damn well the real driver of the accident was sitting in this car, gripping a steering wheel suspiciously and stuttering to a police officer. 

"Oh definitely not," exclaimed the officer. "based on some of the autopsy research done on her behalf this morning, they are guessing that she stayed in the backseat the whole time but during the time of the impact, her body lurched forward all the way to the front before colliding between the engine and the tree. So now we know there is a possibility that she was not in the car alone."

 My heart throbbed harder in my chest, as if my insides when getting melted.

"It was nice talking to you sir, but I have to go to school," I said as I sped out of the parking lot before any suspicious questions would be asked.

                                                                                        _____ 

I gently put my keys on the coffee table as silently as I could as I slipped  into the kitchen. I went to the fridge and grabbed all the supplies I would need to make a peanut butter and fluff sandwich. I stopped as I winced at a loud moan. Heavy breathing followed and the sounds of bed springs creaking made me throw the supplies that I needed for my sandwich back into the fridge angrily.  I was so sick of hearing this shit literally every single minute I walked into the house. It didn't minute whether it was the morning, the afternoon, or the night. It didn't matter if my parents or should I say my vulnerable mother and my soldier wannabe step dad (Steven) had just came back from a long day of work or even from freaking church. It was the same shit everyday.  Breakfast. Have loud, rough, sex. Make lunch. Have loud, rough, sex. Be forced to do work outs sessions from  Steven. Make dinner. Have loud, rough, sex. Have violent wrestling practice sessions with Steven. Repeat.

I cringed in disgust as I heard my mom shout  shout excitedly, "We've gotten even better at this!" 

My little sister, Jessica ran from her room, tears streaming down her chunky cheeks.

"I've been hungry all day Logan!" she cried as she ran over and hugged my knees tightly. I groaned in dismay. Knowing the way Steven and my mom were they could have been in there for the past hour without taking notice that I left the house and that Jessica was starving.

"There was peanut butter and fluff in the fridge," I said as I began to pull the peanut butter out again but finding out this time the only thing remaining in the jar was tiny scabs of butter and a puddle of oil. Didn't Steven promise to go grocery shopping for the past two weeks? 

I heard a loud scream of overwhelming satisfaction and jerked at the surprising sound. Why did they have to act like animals? Didn't they know Jessica was in the house? I marched to my parent's door and knocked hard. After a few more disturbing grunts, the door swiftly opened, Steven wrapped in a lemon yellow towel with a scowl plastered on his face.

"What the hell do you want?" spat Steven angrily.

Like earlier with the chubby police officer, my heart pounded in my chest, fear rising in me as I dared to step up to Steven.

"There's no food in the house," I muttered as I looked down at my feet. "And you promised two weeks ago you would get groceries. Plus, you and mom are being pretty loud knowing damn well that a three year old child is in the house."

"Why don't you get a fucking job so you won't have depend on me for money all the time?" said Steven.

"I did have a job until you forced me to quit  just so I could take part in your stupid ass wrestling sessions. Now can you please give us some money for food and stop fucking my mom so loudly," I said a little too brashly.

Steven quickly shut the door behind him and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. 

"And what are you gonna do about it?" said Steven as dribbles of saliva hit the bottom of my face. We stood face to face with each other for a few minutes, anxiety rising as I was frightened on what was going to happen next. When Steven sensed my cowardliness he laughed nastily as he let go of my shirt.

"That's what I thought" snarled Steven. He went back into his room and came out a few seconds later with crumbled dollar bills in his hand.

"Here," he said as he threw the bills carelessly at my face. "You and Jessica can go buy yourself some burgers or something."

I shoved the money into my coat pocket and started to leave.

Steven spoke up once more. "And if you ever try to be big and bold to me like that ever again, I'll really fuck you up," said Steven as he slammed the bedroom door shut. 

I turned around only to see Jessica  standing in the hallway, tear-stroked yet again. And I couldn't help but  to let the tears fall down my face too.