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THE JOURNEY BACK

PART 1

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Andy Hopper's perfectly white and perfectly clean Converse shoes scraped up the dirt path that lead to the old and rundown brown trailer, that if she didn't know otherwise, would've thought had been abandoned for years. She hated it. She hated how it looked, she hated how the mud was ruining her shoes and catching on the hems of her denim jeans, and most poignantly, she hated how she was stuck there.

She climbed the few wooden steps leading to the door, fearful that they were just going to fall away underneath her. Tentatively and almost a little scared, she raised her fist and knocked on the door. From the other side came a loud groan followed by a thump. The banging of heavy footsteps continued all the way down the trailer to the door until it swung open.

And then there he was. A large, both in height and width man, with an unshaven face and a stomach that suggested he ate way too much junk food. He wore a light brown, almost beige, police chief uniform that held a gun around his waist. He looked down at her with an expression she couldn't quite make out. Irritated maybe, but something else too.

"Hi, Dad."

𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥〡STEVE HARRINGTONWhere stories live. Discover now