October 21st, 2013. | NYC.
13 year old Jayda watched as the house she had spent her entire life in, went up in flames.
Making it out alive, would prove to be a blessing and a curse. Jayda looked around, searching for the rest of her family.
"Sweetheart, is there someone you could call?" A police officer, whose badge read "SRGNT TAELOR", asked her.
"Her whole family just died and she's not even crying. That little girl has always been off." A nosy neighbor told a camera crew, who was documenting the scene for their next headline.
Jayda didn't speak back to her, she continued watching as the many firefighters attempted to put out the fire that engulfed her 2 story house.
"Sweetheart?" Taelor repeated.
Jayda glanced at her, giving her a face Taelor couldn't quite read.
Seeing a figure emerge from the fire, many orders were being called out.
"Sir, are you alright?!" Taelor ran up to the man, throwing a fire blanket over him.
"My daughter, my son?" He exclaimed, searching for his children.
Taelor pointed to Jayda, who watched the interaction with an emotionless look plastered on her face.
"Ahya? Are you alright?" He called her by her middle name, swooping her up in a hug.
She nodded her head, feeling her Dad whisper something in her ear.
"256 Walsh Jayda." He told her.
She looked up, locking eyes with him, before looking around at the many people standing around the block.
"Sir, you are under arrest for the murder of Ahya Cheaves, Jaydyn Cheaves, and the attempted murders of Jayda Cheaves, and Tyrone Beasley."
Jayda watched as a male officer, pulled her dad's hands behind his back.
"Now Ahya." He repeated, again calling her by her middle name.
"Sweetheart?" Taelor reached for Jayda as her head began to spin.
Without a second thought, Jayda took off on foot.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she looked back, seeing Taelor chasing her.
Jayda was trained for a situation like this, and she kept running.
Her small body moved much quicker than the older police woman that was currently running behind her.
Jayda went through the woods, ducking as a branch almost caught her lacking. Taelor, was not so lucky nor familiar with the area, and proceeded to run directly into the thick branch.
Knocking her down, Taelor grabbed her nose, that she knew was for sure broken.
"Jayda!" Taelor yelled, but Jayda never looked back.
She continued running until her feet gave up from under her.
She rested her back against a gas station wall, about an hour from her previous home.
She panted heavily, her chest currently burning.
"256 Walsh." She kept repeating, never once shedding a tear.
Jayda looked around, making sure she was aware of her surroundings.
The usual busy streets of Harlem, were exceptionally quiet on this particular night.
Her ears picking up every slight sound, she closed her eyes, inhaling, before opening them.
Looking up, a homeless man was sitting against the wall across from her.
