Mine

Chapter 1

There was only one thing worse than being raised by a cop. Being raised by two cops. After taking my brother's precious car for a quick drive around the block last night, ten minutes tops, he went ballistic. So I didn't have my license yet. So what? No cop in this precinct would give me a ticket, he knew that. Not as long as Dad was the shift commander.

And the scratch on his fender? It would buff out. No problem. Assuming he let me walk out the front door today, I'd show him. Wait, I think he had duty today. Good. After he left for work I would take care of the scratch and all would be forgiven. I strained my ears for the sounds of Gale leaving.

"I'll stick around until Ken wakes up. One way or another he is changing clothes. Today."

Still mad. He called me 'Ken'.

Good lord, what problem did my brother have with my clothes? Sleeping in clothes wasn't a crime, not even in my family. I decided the stupid statement didn't warrant opening my eyes. Gale might have sneaked into my room when I was a toddler to change my clothes for me, I was a little too big for that these days.
And what was that smell? A tart odor clung to the back of my throat. I took shallow breaths so I wouldn't gag. Maybe I would give in and clean my room today, god only knew what was growing under the bed to make it smell like this. After Gale left.

"You can't force him."

A second voice, one which I had never heard before, argued with my brother. A stranger argued with my brother, not Dad. Dad worked nights, he should've come home by now.

"It needs to be your brother's idea, not yours. You saw how he was last night."

More like I saw how Gale was last night. His whole head had turned beet red while he screamed at me for taking his stupid car for a little practice drive. If he'd come home early like he promised I wouldn't have had to do it alone. Did he come home like he promised? Nooooo. I bet he spent the evening hanging out with that guy from his Academy class, Roger or Robert, whatever. He spent more time with that jerk than me.

"You mean, typical?" Gale sounded furious. He'd cool off after I buffed out the scratch. "The way he refused to look at me?"

I discovered an unfamiliar ceiling above me when my eyelids flew open. Off-white. Random texture dotted the ceiling instead of the familiar arcs of my home bedroom. My bed had a pleasant warm hole which cradled my body in perfect comfort. I wasn't home. This was not my bed.

"It's been how long?" The second guy sounded more reasonable than my brother, not a difficult feat. "Four years?"

"Five," Gale corrected in his gruff 'I don't want to discuss it' voice, which I knew all too well. Stubborn jerk.

Five years since what? Five years ago I turned ten. Gale turned nineteen and Dad made him buy the boring sedan I accidentally scratched last night. His fault for not coming home on time.

"Okay then, five years." Gale's friends almost never took my side. They tended to treat me like their bratty younger siblings. Was it my fault I was nine years younger than them? And smarter?

"You've changed in the last five years. I'm sure he has too. He's still your brother even if you haven't spoken in years."

I sat straight up in bed, my ears ringing, gut clenched, all the air in my chest frozen. My throat closed up as my eyeballs tried to escape from my face. Then I saw my legs.

Starting with the knees, my jeans were a dark color as if they were still wet, but they were dry. When I touched the fabric it felt hard as if I had waded through starch and all the hairs on my arm stood on end. A shudder ran through me. My gaze traveled up my legs to see more dark smears.
My stomach lurched and bile stung the back of my throat. Where the hell did they keep the bathroom in this place? I leaped from bed to yank open the first door I spotted.