"Don't call me that"
The officer looked at me, surprised that I was speaking to him that way. He pushed the button on his intercom, and said, "Uhh....sorry, it's a.....male." heasetantly. At this, I sat down on the ground, and waited.
Eventually, another officer came up to me, motioned for me to follow him, and put me into the cab of his cruiser. His German Shepard barking at me from the back seat. I told him where I lived, and stared out of the window on the way home, thinking about how frantic my dad must've been.
But....when we pulled up to my house, my dad was outside, beer in hand, washing the car, laughing with my step-mother and step-sister.
I remember thinking about how happy they look; like the perfect family, happy....without me.
The policeman told me to stay in the cruiser, and he got out. My father greeted him with a huge smile and a handshake. The policeman says something, I couldn't hear him, and my dad's face fell into one of confusion. I read his lips, 'My daughter?'
-Conner
YOU ARE READING
Transition
RandomHi, this story is based on My own personal experiences, and the people's names included are the actual names of the people involved.(The ones who gave me permission)
