Warming up to the Idea

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"Then stay with me!" Damon said cheerful. I sighed because that is not what I meant...

I started to stutter and fidget with my hands. I looked at him and frowned I do need a home, but just not one with him. Compromise, I tell myself. "Fine" I let out with a big sigh. "I'll do it," I took and deep breathe and stared at his eyes. "If you promise separate bed, and if you can, separate rooms. And this is just until I get a job and make enough money to rent an apartment. Got it?" I asked, and my voice cracker a little, so I cleared my throat. 

"Got it." Damon answered fast. "Done. Separate beds and just for a few weeks." He was very happy. He looked as if he could skip around...again. 

I looked behind me and still, I can't see much. Just some torn up and molding furniture. If anything, the lights in here are making everything worse. "Are there any better lights than this?" I ask. 

Damon looked around the room quickly and said, "No, but every night, I set up candles around, but in the mornings, the sun is a good enough resource" I smiled and looked around the house again. I wasn't admiring any of these things in here. Nothing was cool enough to catch my eye. Nothing. 

I nod my head and follow Damon to the old, gross, moldy thing he so calls a room. Theirs a trashed bed, some more spider webs, two old dressers that look ancient and a rusted, silver lamp. Other than the rust, and the broken shattered pieces of glass on the lamp, it looks kind of cool. The picture on it, I mean. It's the one picture I see around a lot. The one on the roof of the Sistine Chapel. God and Jesus' fingers almost touching. As if God has reached out to you personally, giving you the sign of friendship. I stared at it for a few seconds and then, finally, I went back to reality. 

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It's now been twenty-four hours and I am sure my mom has already sent a search unit to find me. Soon, they’ll find me. I never hide my tracks. Ever. I slowly walked outside for some fresh air because I surely can't get fresh air inside here. I walked behind the house and slid my back down the old, old wall. Will I regret this? I ask myself. 

Instantaneously, I hear the cops' sirens somewhere near. I put my hands on the floor and pull my body up immediately. There probably here for me. No, they are here for me. I know it. The cops are now on the road right across from me. They spotted me. It's too late. They saw me, I can't run now. I can't outrun a cop's car. I stop my feet from exploring any further, and put my hands on my thighs. 

The cops are right in front of me and they are ready to get me. The cops open the car door and run out, leaving the door open. I wasn't running, so why are they? They started saying something in a walky-talky, but I didn't catch what they said, my heart was the only thing I could hear. 

Suddenly, they grab my shoulders and push me into their car. It feels like I am being arrested for nothing. I catch a glimpse of Damon running outside to see what was happening. He stood there, knowing he was helpless. But even so, he ran trying to catch up to the car as it drives away. He yelled something, but I read his lips, he was yelling my name. He came after me, I thought. He then stopped, knowing there was no use anymore. I blushed quickly, but then made it go away quickly. 

Later, when I awaken, I am in a room a clear room. And the only thing between me and the cop, is the table that stands about three feet high. I am sitting one a chair, but I don't know how I even got on here. They must have gave me something to pass out, a shot, maybe? The only thing that comes in thought is Damon. How he came outside, wanting to help. He cares. He really does. How can I hate someone willing to do such a thing. Chase after a cops' car. Can't someone get in trouble for that? 

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