I Choose You

Chapter Six - Home's Not So Sweet

I grabbed a hanger - yes a hanger - and a metal rod, then snooped around the house. My dog cant whisper. I realized after I got to the door of my parent's room that I should've called that number. I ran back into my room and grabbed my phone, then ran downstairs, and into the kitchen. It was as far away I could get without leaving the house.

I had already programmed the number into my phone, so I called it. "Hello?" a lady's voice answered, Lynn. "Its Alex Bertie." I heard some sort of breathing noise, and papers moving. I must've been on speaker. "We'll send someone right away." I hung up and crawled under he table, a knife in hand. Now, I just had to wait it out.

Minutes later, someone banged on the door. I sprung up, forgetting I was under a table and hit my head. Great. I ran an I answered it and pointed upstairs, and said my parents room and that the door was closed. Some sort of squad with bullet-proof vests ran up the stairs while Officer Jim stayed with me. He played out his usual routine: he asked me what happened; I told him; then he asks me every possible detail possible; I answered all that I could. I didn't man details this time, though. Just whispering.

Suddenly, the squad people came down holding a rope ladder. "That's not mine," I quickly defended. They nodded and waved my over. I followed them around my house. How terrible is that? We went into my parent's room, where a bunch of papers were scattered, many tabs open on the computer and the window open. They got away. . . But were dumb enough to leave evidence. Officer Jim slipped on latex gloves and dug through the paperwork, reading every last thing as I had read the WPP papers. As soon as he got to the third or fourth paper, he exclaimed an "aha!". Everyone rushed over to see and looked over, reading the papers along with him. I wasn't sure whether to read or stay put, and I didn't feel like fighting for a look, so I stayed. "Alex?"

I walked over and glanced the papers, not sure what the scribbled letters formed. "Are these passwords or some sort of securities of yours?" Leaning over, I made out the words. It had all of my information. Emails, usernames, birthday, parent's name, birth name, even my passwords. I was in deep trouble. "Y-yes. That's like, all of my info. How did that even -" I mumbled on and on, before collapsing to the floor.

"I'm not sure what we will do about this, but we need fingerprints of you, to assure you didn't write these." I lifted my head as far as it could go, "It wasn't me, obviously. Its on bright yellow paper, all on one. The rope ladder? Why me? Did you even look at the other papers? Why are you accusing me of this?"

"Its only to clear you. We don't believe you framed this because you didn't feel safe or something, and since we have no suspects or no people here, we need them. Give me you hand, Alex."

Suddenly, I became weak. As high as I could, I lifted my hand. My head dropped. My bones felt like they got cooked. My body was spaghetti. I didn't exist. I did, though. People were talking but I wasn't listening. I was but I wasn't. My eyes were getting droopy. I wanted to sleep. Then the room went black.