Out in the Garden

Just to get the Message Across

At twelve years old, flashing blue lights and sirens are things you see on movies. For Caroline, it was the sight burned into her memory when she walked up the hill on Orchard Lane to get to her house on the end of the dead end street. There were firetrucks, ambulances, police cruisers, and black cars with lights flashing from the inside. 

As she got closer, she saw men wearing the reflective lime-green vests talking to each other. There were people taking photographs and a truck with the logo from the local newspaper parked on the other side of the street. Terror like never before gripped her heart, but she kept walking as calmly as she could, even though her knees felt like jelly and her hands were shaking. Standing in her front yard, speaking with a uniformed police officer, was a man in a black jacket with yellow lettering on the back that spelled out "CORONER". 

Someone finally saw the small girl walking closer and approached her. She stopped in her tracks, waiting to see what he said, waiting for any sort explanation, but all he said was to "stay back!" 

"That's my house!" she exclaimed, and she saw the look of horror in the man's eyes as every muscle in his body seemed to fall. 

Along with it was any sense of peace that Caroline had known. 

---

Alex was in that state of half-asleep, half-awake. His eyes were closed, and he was almost dreaming, but he was still aware of everything that was happening around him. When he heard the pounding of feet coming upstairs, his eyes snapped open and he sat up, realizing that it was completely dark outside now, casting his room in complete shadow. 

He took a deep breath, and jumped at the banging on his door. 

"Yeah," said Alex, rubbing his eyes a little swinging his legs over the side of his bed. 

The door swung open and his father switched on the lights, making Alex wince and sink down. 

"Your party made the news," his father said, taking a few steps into Alex's bedroom. The younger boy sank back even further, not mistaking the cold tone that the larger man was taking. "Now I want to beat something into your head about getting involved in shit like this in this town. It was different in New York - there was shit all over the place back there, everything got muddled up. Up here? The littlest things are the biggest shit this town has ever seen." 

Alex nodded quickly, looking his father in the eye. "I understand," he mumbled out. 

His father walked even closer, so that he was hovering over his son. He reached out, grabbing Alex by his shirt and pulling him closer to stare him in the eyes. Alex swallowed, bracing himself. 

"I don't like it when you go out," he said menacingly. 

The next second, his other hand swung hard and fast, slapping Alex directly in the face and knocking him sideways onto his bed. The larger man stood over him for a moment, watching him react, but the boy didn't move, just exhaled and waited. 

"But I don't like it when you're here either." 

He threw one more punch to Alex's stomach, just to get the message across. With that, he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

Alex swallowed the lump in his throat and sat back up, clutching the side of his face that had been hit. It was going to bruise, and look horrible. Downstairs, he could hear his parents arguing. He knew it wasn't his mother defending him at all. He knew it wouldn't stop, either, and he knew that it was likely they would come back upstairs and drag him into it. Locking the door wasn't an option. 

He looked outside; his bedroom window faced the street, and he could see lights still on at Carrie's house. With a sigh, he lifted himself off of his bed.