LOOK AT ME (Muslim Story)

He looked at me (49)

"But no one at school likes me," I pouted speaking to my father as we stood in front of the elementary school gates, "They all make fun of me. They call me Emo Emerald."

My dad held my shoulders as he kneeled in front of me, "So what? Who cares if these little fuckers don't like you? I like you."

My nine year old self giggled, "Okay but that's because your my dad."

He began to tickle me from the neck and I only laughed louder, "Well if I like you, then who gives a fuck about what these little kids think? You don't need anyone to like you kid. You just need your dad to love you and that's all."

I hugged him, "Okay."

"Remember kid," my dad whispered into my ear before letting me walk into school, "You don't live by other kids. You're your own person. Make a living."

"Hello?" The police officer with blonde hair and black cap snapped his fingers in front of my face, "Snap out of it, kid."

I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

"Emerald, I need you to co-operate so we can find the man who killed your dad." Said another white cop who held his belt and kneeled down in front of me, "What was his last name?"

I was emotionless. My dad was gone, what was there to feel? Pain? Vengeance? It hurt too much to even think of those things.

I was sitting in the police station, shivering and scared to death from the events of today. It became night quicker than I can even blink and I just...I don't know.

I stared at my shoes, blinking every two minutes, "Fred." I whispered, "Fred. That's all I know."

"His last name."

"I don't—" I paused to look at the deputy dead in the eyes, "Know."

These cops were insensitive. My dad just died in front of my eyes, the only person who raised me, took care of me and ever gave me anything just died. He just— he just died.

I have no more tears left in my system for me to cry. I just sat down, my hands around my body as I watched my life tumble down and fall into a billion broken pieces.

He's really gone.

"He was Brandon's friend you say? Brandon Blake?" Asked the cop, taking out a notebook and a pen.

I nodded my head, still no emotion. "Yes. He testified in court."

The officer walked away with the information I fed him as more police started to show up. Some would take me in for questioning and others would just sit there and watch, pity me for loosing the last piece of family that I had.

Another police officer with a bald head came and joined me at my seat, "Emerald, when do you turn eighteen?"

My lip quivered, "January 15th."

"Okay well for the next three weeks or so, you'll be installed in a foster home."

A foster home?

"And when you turn eighteen, the property will be yours."

"What property?" I asked.

"Your current house." Said the cop, "The papers say that your father bought the house so it's okay for you to live in it."

I nodded my head. There's no reason to be rude towards this man. Honestly, there's no reason for anything anymore. I just, I have to go. There's no reason for me to be here.