Camp Where The Hell Are We? | ✓

43

Four days in a row of daily updates?! We stan a productive shister!!!

(I hate that I typed that but not enough to take it back lol)

Enjoy Chapter 43 😯😮

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She was 11 the first time her father was arrested.

The sound of emergency responders in her neighbourhood wasn't an odd occurrence, and one she often slept through.

In early morning September of seventh grade, Marley Hoover rolled over in her pale pink sheets, shoving her face into her pillows with a groan at the wailing sirens. Her room was dark apart from a light blue night light on the left side of her door, illuminating the floor and outlines of her largest furniture pieces. Tendrils of her shoulder-length, coffee brown hair were splayed around her pillow, tangled and messy, concealing her tiny face and delicate features.

She peeled a hazel eye open after five minutes of the repeated blaring, sighing in annoyance. Curling her tiny fingers into the mattress, she lifted her body upwards and struggled into a sitting position while the blood rushed to her head.

Blinking rapidly, she cocked her head sideways, her hair following suit when she locked eyes on her dresser across the room. It was flashing blue and purple, being illuminated and then disappearing into black faster than she could comprehend.

The blaring continued, so she snapped her head to her window with her heart in her throat. Through the cracks of her pale yellow curtains, she was shocked to see the source of the flashing lights. She nearly fell face first onto her hardwood floor in her mad dash towards the window, ducking into a crawling position, palms flat against the floor as she peeked her eyes over the sill.

Beyond the flickering, yellowed porch light, and the untamed shrubbery along the gravel path to the front door were two police cars and a third parked on the street. Her lawn was crawling with officers, some discussing and others writing down on heavy, plastic clipboards. Her hazel eyes flickered around the space, landing on the real chaos and widening.

"-is unconstitutional! You'll hear from my fucking lawyer!" Her father, red-faced with his face dug into the grass of their front lawn, struggled and fought the three officers holding him still, while one put handcuffs on his trapped wrists.

The officer in uniform kneeling on top of him had light caramel hair. His jaw L-shaped on a thin, bony face. His eyes were a warm brown which tamed the harshness of his face. When he lifted himself off her father, he frowned with thin lips, blinking as if confused by something.

When his head lifted to scan his surroundings, young Marley was too naive and stunned by what she was witnessing to back away from her window. Brown eyes locked right on hers, widening considerably before she came to her senses. Crab-walking with a high pitched squeak, she made a mad dash for her closet, the squad car lights still flashing, but the sounds suddenly cutting off.

She shut the white wood of her closet in front of her as muted thuds could be heard from downstairs, followed by the static of pagers and hushed voices. Marley covered her mouth with her hand when she heard the familiar groan of her old door being opened, the un-oiled hinges protesting.

"Hello there?" The male voice was soft, persuasive as three booted steps thudded against the floor. Marley hunched her shoulders to her cheeks, hugging herself tighter and sure she was as close to the wall as she could get.

Whenever her father entered her room, he was drunk and too stupid to search beyond her bed. This officer wasn't.

When she heard footsteps approaching her closet and shadows seep through the crack at the bottom of the door, tears began to race down her cheeks. She missed Jacobi more than ever at that moment — he would know what to do, he would hold her and make all the things that go bump in the night, go away.