Chapter 1
Indistinguishable bits of trash continued to hit the back of his head. Terry just leaned his head against the bus window, too tired to care anymore.
He stuck earphones in his ears and turned up his classical music loud to drown out the sounds of his pathetic tormentors. The climatic chorus of strings made Terry feel triumphant against his tormentors for being able to ignore them for so long. Terry slightly chuckled at his own simple mind.
As the bus came to a stop, Terry dashed off the bus and nearly flew home. He looked behind to his relief to see that nobody was following him. Catching his breath, Terry stood at his front door. His face grew grim for the only thing worse than his school tormenters was his house, or rather, his parents.
The shattering of glass, followed by yelling stopped Terry from opening the door. He slid his hands into his jean pockets and sauntered to the back of the house.
The breeze of the open field slowly alleviated the oncoming seething anger in him. The field seemed to expand forever, as if his house was right on the borderline of civilization and everything beyond was land still unchartered.
Terry sat underneath a tree near the house, but far enough so that the sounds from the house were inaudible. The papers in his backpack crumpled as he leaned his back onto the rough trunk. The sun was still looming over the horizon, not ready to turn in for the day either.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes to find himself in the dark. Disoriented, he frantically looked around. His eyes met with small, twinkling lights near the ground. Fireflies, Terry thought, Crap, it’s gotten late.
Terry got up and walked back to his house, which was silent now. He cautiously cracked the door open, embracing for loud voices and heavy objects to come flying at him. To his surprise, nobody was there to greet him. He shut the door behind him and looked around the kitchen. The flickering ceiling lamp was swinging back and forth, and the living room lights on the other side were on as well.
He tiptoed through the kitchen, when suddenly a searing pain shot up his foot. He looked down to see shards of glass scattered across the floor. Terry hopped backwards on his other foot and sat down at the dining table to inspect his foot. To his dismay, there were tiny bits and pieces of glass cut into the bottom of his foot. He groaned at the thought of taking out every little piece, and gave up after taking out most of the bigger ones.
Terry cleaned up the broken glass and went upstairs to his bedroom. His room was small, but large enough for a twin-size bed, a wooden desk, and a desk lamp. And he even had a view of the field from his bedroom window, where often the flickering fireflies could be seen.
Terry sat at his desk with his chin propped up on his hands, as his eyes lazily watched the lights dancing on the grass.
Then, suddenly, the fireflies’ lights went out at once. Terry strained his eyes to see a figure within the dark. The figure pointed a flashlight at the grass. Terry could make out a nightgown; it was a girl. The girl directed the light all around her in the grass, as if she was searching for something.
Then, a loud knock at the door startled Terry, breaking his concentration from the girl. He ran downstairs, went to the kitchen, and opened the door. A tall, hefty man in a navy blue uniform greeted him at the door.
“How may I help you, officer?”
“Terry Finley? I tried to find ya earlier this afternoon but it seems you weren’t around,” the officer started. “It seems your folks were called in for some interrogation.”
“Interrogation for what?” Terry asked. The officer seemed a bit shaken, and looks as if he had worked up a sweat.
“How old are ya son?” He asked, as if what he was about to tell Terry wasn’t appropriate for younger kids.
“17 sir.”
The officer rubbed his hands against his pants. “It seems your folks were called in for child abuse.”
“Child abuse?”
The officer nodded nervously.
Child abuse? I wasn’t being abused, was I? Terry thought, startled.
“No, officer. I think you’ve got it wro-“
“One of your school teachers noticed you got them scars and bruises on your body,” he interrupted.
Instantly, every bruise on Terry’s body started to burn, and every scar started to itch. Was I being abused this whole time?
“Well, how do you know I got these from abuse? I could have gotten them from falling or playing sports,” Terry said, not wanting to accept the fact that he may have been abused.
“Your folks, son. They admitted it before we could even start askin’ questions,” he answered, “They’re a strange couple of people, I’ll say. I nearly got chewed out by your mom and had to chase down your dad.”
Terry was speechless. Mangled up thoughts rushed through his head. He still had so many questions to ask, but didn’t know where to begin or what to think of all of this.
“Well, son. We’ve got a place set up for ya so ya don’t have to be around your folks,” the officer said nonchalantly. “I’ll come by tomorrow morning for ya. Pack up whatever you need by then.”
Terry just stared into the darkness behind the officer, his words not quite processing.
“Goodnight then,” the officer turned around and walked to his car.
“Wait!” Terry called out.
He turned around.
“Can I say bye to my parents first?”
The officer sighed. “Sure thing son. Sure thing.”
