God Is Writing My Love Story

6. Michael

He was walking towards me with his mouth wide open in shock. I stuttered. Out of all houses I ran to Michael's house?

He say next to me and rubbed my shoulder and I nodded from his earlier question. His hand was warm and comforting.

"You two know each other?" Asked his mom.

"Yeah. She goes on my bus." he replied. Before anything could be said, we heard sirens coming down the street and turning into this neighborhood. That was fast.

The cops came to the door and asked what happened. Michael's dad explained his story first.

"Well, Leraine was making dinner when all of a sudden we hear this loud banging at the door. And I was repetitive knocking. So I thought our neighbor was complaining about something. I answered the door and there was this girl and she was out of breath begging me to let her in. She seemed afraid and then she told me someone was chasing her. So I let her in immediately. She jumped through the door. Literally! She dove and fell to the floor and I shut the screen door. Right as I shut the door I can see to the corner of my eye a black figure was standing there watching her. Not us, but her. It was so terrifying I yelled to Leraine to call the police." The story took longer than I expected. He really got into some detail that I didn't even notice until now.

The police officer said thank you to him and came up to me. Oh no. He's going to ask me questions. How can I talk without bursting into tears? I can't cry in front of Michael that would be totally embarrassing!

"Can you tell me your side?" he said to me. I didn't want to be rude and I wanted to let them know everything they needed to to catch this freak. So I nodded.

"Great." He said with a smile.

He asked me the questions that I had the perfect answer to. When did this start. What did I do after that. How long we were running. But the question that got me was, "do you have any enemies or people that would like to hurt you?" That got me thinking. Do I? I mean, I know some people hate me but I don't know anyone who would do that! After he saw me thinking, he passed the question. And now he was on sketches.

Asking me about facial features body hands anything they could. But, it was hard. He had a ski mask on so I didn't help with that one. He had big muscles I know that for sure. He could snap me in two! His hand were really the only thing showing. His hands were gross with dirt under is fingernails. I know that because I saw when he used the railing on my stairs. Thats how I knew to run. After he gets done talking to me, Michael takes me to the kitchen to call my parents and let them know what happened. I didn't want to call my parents. They would just blame it on me. Saying all these theories on how it was somehow my fault. I took the phone and dialed my dad's phone. He's a little more understanding then my mother is.

"Hello?" says my dad.

"Dad. Someone broke into the house today. And..." I told him the whole story. And after I was done he was speechless. He just asked me if I was okay and said that we'll talk about it when they get home. I hung up the phone with a depressed stare. That means wait until we get there so we can lecture you about all the things you should've done. Great. Michael noticed my thinking and sad face.

"Are you okay? What happened on the phone?" he said to me. Putting his hand on my fore arm gently. I just nodded and looked at the floor. He bent his knees and met my eyes and smiled. I smiled back.

"Are you sure? you can tell me anything. I promise I won't judge." I nodded again and I took one more breath before I spoke. But I couldn't. Tears just rolled down my face. I tried to speak but I just choked on the words. I couldn't think. I couldn't speak. All I could do was cry. I don't know why I was taking this so hard. But I was traumatized. From him running after me. To the evil stare. To my dad telling me that we'll talk about it when he gets home. Knowing I'll just get in trouble for something. I just couldn't handle the repetitive racing in my heart. So it just split. Noticing that I've been crying for about a minute now. His hand was still on my arm. Squeezing tighter and tighter. Until one moment, where he just gave in. He pulled me to his chest and squeezed me tight. After I was against. Him I just cried even harder. Noticing him allowing me to poor my feelings into him. I buried my face in his shirt. Not caring about the wet stains or the mascara smudges on his chest. He didn't care either. He just rested his head on mine. And we stood there. Just hugging each other. And just, not caring. This was the first time I saw that this was something more I thought it was going to be.