Hunting Season

My feet slammed on the hard pavement as I ran through the empty street. I panted as I looked around and ran into the police station. My back hit the floor as I hit someone and held my head as I slowly got up.

Police Officer: Woah there kid, slow down or else I'll have to give you a ticket.

I looked up at his smiling face as he joked and grabbed onto his shirt

Harlow: S-someone just killed my mom.

Police Officer: Alright little girl, no time for games.

As he motioned to the door I pushed him back making him place his hands on his hip

Harlow: No you have to listen to me, there were these men and they beat her with a bat.

Police Officer: Ok, little girl, did it take place at home? where do you live?

Harlow: I live on the street

Police Officer: So you're homeless is what you're telling me?

Harlow: Yes but what does that matter?

As I spoke his partner stepped behind him and listened in on the conversation.

Partner: Ok where is your father is he in the picture?

Harlow: No he's dead

Partner: Ok I need you to...is that blood on your hand miss? Where did it come from?

As those words left his mouth, his partner looked down at his shirt and cursed under his breath as he saw the stains of blood.

Harlow: I just told you someone killed my mother.

Police Officer: She's homeless, most likely lives around the block, mother and father according to her are dead.

Partner: Ok, so tell me if this is what really happened. You were in the alley, saw a couple of people fighting, got panicked, and ran over here. You probably got cut breaking those corners, is that what happened? That seems reasonable.

I watched as he nodded to his partner and took some notes.

Harlow: You guys aren't listening to me, I remember what happened, the man who did it had a tattoo on his arm.

Police Officer: A tattoo?

Harlow: Yes on his right arm, it was a snake

Partner: Millians of people have those exact tattoos. Why don't you go sit in the lobby and my partner and I will discuss this and get right back to you?

I sighed before nodding and taking a seat on the chair, my cracked feet dangled in the air as I watched them talk and look back at me.

10 years later

Present

My hands felt sore as I scrubbed the pan and looked over to my shoulder at Betty she checked things on her checkboard. It had been three years since I was taken off of the streets and put into the Orphanage. 10 years since my mother was murdered.

I placed the pan in the dry rack and dried my hand in my shirt as she passed behind me.

Harlow: Miss Betty, I've finished washing the dishes may I go and eat now?

Miss Betty: Sure, here is an apple, something extra to eat with your meal.

I thanked her as I took up a tray and made my way to my table. I thanked the server and stuck my fork into my mashed potatoes, staring out the window at the dark sky. Today was her Anniversary.