The Polaroid's on the Wall

Chapter 25: Shoulder to cry on

TJ POV:

I really hadn't missed this holding cell. It was just as horrible as I'd remembered. Brick beige aged walls that were bumpy and cold to the touch but I was so exhausted I couldn't help but lean against them whilst I sat on the ugly, hardly stable metal black bench. That all there was too it really other than the horrible concrete ceiling and floor.

But the worst thing? the cops that walk past and give me a glare that says, "wow TJ, you're here again! Well done for being a complete fuck up you waste of space,"

I wiped the blue spray paint on my jeans only to be hit with a surge of pain that reminded me of the other stupid thing I did today.

I fucking punched a wall.

This time I did it gently so I didn't get any blue streaks on my head as I rubbed my temple. I'm literally such an idiot, why did I decide to resort to my old ways? Did I seriously want to feel like that again? When I try so hard not to, daily.

But I wasn't going to be the only one beating me up for it.

'TJ!' I heard a worried voice, the one I cared about the most.

Mom.

'Hold on Mrs Kippen,' Kyle put a hand out to stop her, 'You're going to have to talk to chief first,'

'Great,' my dad sighed, clearly pissed.

'Why?' My mom said defensively, 'He hasn't been in here in ages,'

'Yes but it's still his tenth strike, it's not going to look good when applying for jobs and schools,' Kyle explained, 'We're just concerned,'

My dad frowned, 'Are you criticising our parenting?!'

'Of course not,' Kyle stayed calm, 'We just want what's best for TJ and I think that means a rehabilitation course,'

'He was fine for a whole year!' My mom argued, 'Had you said this then it would've made sense but he hadn't done anything for a while. This is a blip, he won't do it again,'

What she said was what I wanted her to say but there was an uncertainty in her voice that made me feel twice as guilty.

'I think you're right but I just have to say it, my boss will call you tomorrow,' He came over to me and unlocked the cell to let me out.

I got up but I felt dead inside. Like I wasn't actually there, like I was dragging my tired corpse. Animating a puppet. I am so fucking dead when we get home.

The car ride was silent with me in the back staring at my feet, occasionally glancing up to see my mom's worried expression watching street after street go by in the reflection of the wing mirror. Meanwhile, my dads knuckles turned white gripping the steering wheel and clenching his jaw in sheer anger. His eyes firmly stuck on the road but whether he was focusing on driving or not I didn't know. He doesn't care about anyone in this car, except himself that is.

As soon as the front door was closed, my dad opened his mouth to speak.

'What in hell's name were you thinking?'

I was about to respond but he spoke again.

'What is wrong with you? Why do you always have to cause trouble wherever you go?!'

Mom sighed, 'Ted, please-'

'Stay out of this Carol, go to bed,' My dad ordered her.

She stood her ground, 'He's our son, I'm not going to bed so you can lecture him like he's part of the army!'