Waste My Time|On Hold

Chapter 3 - slight *⚠*

If you don't already know, it's freaking hard to be quiet for seven hours! The drive from our rundown town of Jerome, Arizona to Cypress, California was a whole seven freaking hours. Chase slept most of the time and Father was complaining about how needing I am and how I should have been the one that died in the crash ten years ago. I already knew all this. To quote Taylor Swift's song Mean, 'You have pointed out my flaws again, as if I don't already see them'.

"Wake the fuck up, offspring. We're here. Get your ass in the house before I beat yours." Father grunts as he pulls into yet another rundown and rotting house.

"S-sir?" I ask quietly, somewhat hoping he doesn't hear me.

"What the fuck do you want know, bitch?" He grumbles.

"I-I was w-wondering, c-can I go t-to schoo-ol h-here?" I ask him.

"Whatever slut. As long as that offspring of your also goes. I don't want to deal with another one of you. I'm too fucking tired for that shit." He says, "If I have to pay a single cent, you are either going to get a fucking beating or just not go."

"O-okay. T-then c-c-can I get a-a j-job? J-just in c-case?" I ask, trying to sound as polite and submissive as possible; father likes that.

"Whatever. You know the rules. You tell anyone what happens at home, you're fucking dead!" He says, walking into the rundown house.

I do a little happy dance in my head, heading into the house to find the room Chase and I will share.

"What the fuck are you doing, slut? You're staying in the basement." Father says, shoving me towards a wooden door with peeling white paint.

"Okay, Sir." I say quietly.

I grab the backpacks Chase and I packed and head to the basement, Chase's tiny hand in mine. Once we reach the last step, I notice the broken glass on the floor, the tiny twin mattress, big enough for Chase and that's it.

"Chase, honey? You take the mattress. I'll get you a blanket." I whisper in his ear.

Nodding, he heads over to the mattress, spreading out the few clothes and school supplies he has.

"So, you and I are going to school." I say, sitting next to him on the mattress.

"Really!" He asks, way too enthusiastic for us to be talking about school.

Then again, school is our safe place. Our oasis. I can deal with a bully at school, they don't know me on a personal level, they aren't someone who can really, I mean really, hurt me. Not like Father. He is supposed to care for me. Not be a drunk junkie. He's not supposed to watch me get pregnant by his best friend. He's supposed to be the one I can go to when I have boy problems or can't figure out my math homework. But, I get what I get and I can't get upset, right? All I can do is endure it and not be the same with Chase. Chase deserves to get the best. The best schooling, the best food, the best home, the best family, the best everything.

"Mama, when we start school?" Chase asks, yawning in the process.

"We can find a school in the morning. We can go to the library and use one of their computers, deal?" I ask him, trying to get him enthusiastic about it.

"Yay!" He squeals, then quickly covers his mouth, hopeful that Father didn't hear.

We don't hear any movement from upstairs. Father must be out looking for some local bars.

***

I wake up to the sound of sirens outside. Taking a quick look at the small digital clock plugged into the wall, 2:34 am pierces the darkness with it's neon green numbering.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

Chase jumps up from his sleep when a fist bangs at the front door upstairs. Running up the old creaky steps, me and Chase make it to the front door before the mystery person on the other side decides to break it down.

"H-hello?" I ask cautiously as I open the door.

Looking up, I see a tall man with a big, scary look. He's wearing a police uniform, a gun, taser, everything.

"Good morning Miss. I'm sorry for waking you up so early, but I regret to inform you that your father has been found dead. He had overdosed in a gas station parking lot. We'd like to take you and your brother down to the station to find your new legal guardians." The officer said in a deep voice.

"Okay, tank you Sir! You are weally tall, you know that?" Chase pipes up from behind me.

"Ha! I do know that son! You are an adorable little fella, aren't you?" The officer asks, rhetorically, "Oh, I almost forgot. I'm officer Patrick Leford, you can call me Pat, Rick or Patrick."

"O-okay, O-officer Leford." I say, pulling Chase by the arm towards the basement to grab our stuff.

I can't believe he's really gone. Father is dead. No more random beatings at 1 am. I won't be scared to go places, say things, do things, be anything because of him. Chase won't have to grow up the same way I did.

"Mama, why Mr. Rick say that I was your brawther?" Chase asks from behind me.

Stopping I turn to face him, "When we are near strangers, especially police officers like Officer Leford, you are my brother, okay? I am not 'Mama', I'm 'Sis' or 'Bron', okay? Do you hear me?" I whisper.

"Yes Ma- I mean Bwon."

"Good."

I grab both of our bags, shoving the random clothes and blankets we had around the room into one of the two. I took Chase's small hand in mine, and headed for the front of the house where the officer was waiting.

"All packed?" Officer Leford asked.

Nodding, I get in the back of his cruiser. Chase beside me, I rest his head on my lap so that he can sleep. I lean my head back and close my eyes, letting the darkness take over.