I remember that night.
I remember it so clearly.
I can tell you where I was.
I can tell you what I was doing.
I can tell you what song was playing on the speakers.
I can also tell you how I felt when I found out.
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For the whole entire day, I sat in bed.
I sat in bed and I cried repeatedly.
Sometimes, the tears would stop but then they would start again.
Mason called at lunch, but I didn't have the energy to pick up the phone. So, he did the Mason-like thing, and called again and again until I picked up.
"What do you want, Mason?" I mumbled.
"I want to make sure you are alright Haven," He said quickly.
"He might be getting released," I mumbled.
"What?"
"He might be getting released early," I said a little louder.
He caught on quickly as to what I meant.
"Please tell me that's a lie," He begged.
"No Mase."
"I'm so sorry, Haven. I'm going to try and come see you later, I promise."
"Okay," I agreed softly before hanging up.
Dear Mr. Night and Haven Night,
It is our true regret to deliver the news that Mr. Bring has a chance of being released early. If you would like to rebut this choice...
The words from the letter kept ringing through my head and swimming in front of my eyes.
The kid's name was Andrew Bring.
He was the nineteen-year-old asshole who hit my mom and Alex and killed them. In court, me and my dad could barely look him in the eye. He didn't even look upset. He sat there with a blank look on his face. He didn't care that he had killed half of someone's family.
He had been sentenced to life in prison, but apparently that no longer stood.
Around five, I heard a couple knocks on my door before my dad opened it and descended the stairs. He smiled at me and asked, "How are you feeling, honey?"
"Absolutely shitty. How about you?" I replied, sitting up.
"I am doing as best as I can. I just got off the phone with your mother's parents."
