{Complete} The Strange Boy Next Door ~ Bunny fanfic~

21

The police arrive within minuets, much quicker than the officers at North Park.

"What's the problem?" The ginger guy, who's obviously the chief, asks.

"A little girl gave my son this brown paper bag and it had a finger in it," my mom hands the officer the bag, "Sheila thinks that it's her missing son's."

"Kyle Broflovski?" The chief shakes his head, "poor kid. Well we'll run some tests on the finger and try to find some fingerprints on something. We'll also need fingerprints from everyone in the neighbourhood."

I look over at mom. She's chewing her fingernail nervously, her face pale, hand slightly shaky.
She's talking to a fat man with brown hair and sunglasses, still biting her fingernail.

"Is there anything else we should know, ma'am?" He asks.

"Yes," I reply, butting into the conversation, "someone broke into our house earlier today and trapped me in the attic."

The officer raises his eyebrow and takes out a notebook. He nods at me to continue.

"I didn't see him, but he left this," I hand him the 'Kenneth Orange' crayon, "he also drew something on my wall and said something weird."

"Oh?"

"He said 'talk less, smile more'."

"Isn't that from Hamilton?" The police officer asks, quickly scribbling down notes.

"Yes, now that I think about it," I shrug, not understanding what that has to do with catching criminals. "I took a photo of the drawing on my wall. Would you like to see it?"

The chief places a hand on my shoulder.

"We'd rather take a look at the real thing," he says, grabbing the notebook from the fat officer and reading his notes, "Barbrady, go up there with officer Jap and take some photos whilst me and officers Ri and Andreea look for signs of forced entry."

He nods and lets my mom lead him upstairs to the attic.
The chief turns to me, his slightly sweaty hand still on my shoulder.

"Son, it's probably not safe for you to be here right now. Could you perhaps stay at a neighbour's house?"

"I could ask my boyfriend?" I suggest with a shrug. "He lives next door."

"Sure, just make sure you're not here."

He removes his hand from my shoulder and walks off to two female officers by the back door.
I grab my coat and head outside into the cold.

I quickly rush to the steps of Kenny's house and knock on the door.
I stand there for a while, nobody answers the door.
I knock again and this time I hear some sound from inside the house.

"Kenny, you go get it." A woman's voice, presumably Kenny's mom, grunts.

There's the sound of cutlery hitting the table, a chair scraping and five locks being unlocked.
The door opens, but not fully.

"Who is it?" Kenny asks, hiding behind the ajar door. "We don't want to donate money to charity."

"It's Butters."