Ruthless

Chapter 7 ~Orange Juice and police officers

Chapter 7~ Orange juice and police officers

"Don't feel stupid if you don't like what everyone seems to love" - Emma Watson.

For as long as I could remember I had always passed out after my panic attacks. They first started when I was eight, I was sitting in my ballet class giggling with my friends about a boy who had given me his last Oreo. My mum and dad, for once, weren't in the crowd of parents watching proudly at their children performing their small routines.

It was the worse day of my small life, two police officers, one female and one male, had walked in, each with there police hats respectively taken off and placed by their abdomen. At first I had thought this was funny, my father and I had joked that my female ballet teacher was an intentional spy due to her strict Russian accent, posture and her frantic questioning habit. So naturally I believe her cover had been blown and we were about to witness a battle between two police officers and a 5ft dance teacher. But my life had never been that simple.

The blonde female police officer scans the class and then the parents who shift uncomfortably. My ballet teacher stops talking to a group of girls and turns around shocked to see her new visitors.

"Oh, what's happened? Are you sure you're in the right place? I've paid this months rent. Is it the parents?" My old dance teacher questions rapidly and I giggle, wishing my father was in the crowd to witness this.

"We're looking for a little girl, River Santos" says not seeming to be fazed by the ballet teachers questions. He's eyes scan the group of children and my ballet teachers eyes land on me.

"That's her, the child with the blue scrunches" she informs pointing directly at me without hesitation, and my group of friends stare at me in shock.

"Am i in trouble?" I ask quietly, and both of the officers faces softened. "Of course not sweetheart, come with us and have let's have a chat." The female officer says taking a step closer to me, my eyes widen.

"Im not suppose to talk to strangers, we should wait until mummy and daddy are here" I say standing up, I flatten down my light pink tutu and bite the inside of my lip.

"Your mummy and daddy sent us to come and talk to you" the male officer sees walking towards me, he bends down as he does so his knees crack under the pressure of his unusual movements.

"That's what kidnappers say" I frown and the officers' polite smile drops slightly. He turns his head and nods to the female officer who sighs in return.

"We would like everyone to leave this room, we would like to speak to River, privately" she says crossing her arms.

"I'm in the middle of teaching a class! The parents have paid they would want refunds-" the teacher interrupts.

"-Now" She says sternly and children run to their mothers and fathers and they exit the room mumbling and my old ballet teacher trails slowly behind them miserably.

The female officer joins her partner and she bends down to my height aswell. "Sweetheart something's happened to your mummy and daddy." The female officer says slowly, my frown increases in confusion.

"Is it the house? Did they take it away again?"  I question. The officers look at each other and then back at me.
"No darling...there was an car accident and mummy and daddy...have gone to heaven..." the male officer says trailing off and my eyebrows raise.

"You're both insane." I say bluntly.

I shake my head furiously. "I'm so sorry sweetheart." The female officer says.

Then that's when it happened. The air leaves my lungs as if I was punched in the chest, the walls start to get closer as if they were being pushed by a giant. I fall and land on my bottom but it doesn't hurt. My eyes start to fill with tears but I can't speak. My eyelids droop and my throat clenches as tears pour down my cheeks. And then it all goes black.

When I do wake up I feel as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown at me. I gasp and sit up suddenly, the blood rushes to my head and I groan and lay back down on something soft, which I automatically recognise as a pillow.

Confusion feels my facial features, and I sit up slower and glance down and see I'm on a double bed, covered in crystal white sheets and white pillows. I'm still in A.P's shirt and my underwear.

I glance around the room and see that it must have belonged to a teenage boy, the cream walls were covered in posters of what must have been in a playboy magazine. An Xbox 360 and a thick flat screen television is placed in one corner of the room, resting on a white oak desk. A electric guitar had been leant against the wall directly under a playboy poster, the lady in the picture covers her precious parts with books. Yuck.

I glance  to my right and see A.P laying across a black sofa with his arm across his face. One of his legs is grazing the floor while the other is hanging over the top of the sofa. So he looks like he's giving birth.

The smell of orange juice hits my nose and I look further to my right, and I release there's a glass of orange juice with a note on the bedside table.

I pick up the note and it reads:

Glad you're awake, drink this as you'll be dehydrated and wake me up, warning I'm a heavy sleeper when sober. There's a whistle in the top draw, it should wake me up.

-A.P :)

I smile slightly and rest the note on the white sheets. I reach for the glass of orange juice and place it to my lips, I welcome the warm sharp juice as it travels down my dry throat. I place the glass back onto the bedside table. I open the top draw, I scrunch my nose as I have to move aside opened condom wrappers.
Eventually I find a red whistle, I wipe it in my borrowed shirt before placing it to his lips. I don't want to know why he has a whistle in his draw surrounded by condoms. So I play it safe and wipe it again. I take in a deep breath then place the whistle to my lips and I blow, the high pitched noise radiates through the room and A.P sits up suddenly.

"I see you're awake" he his huskily, as his morning voice is in play.