For the Streets

B.)

Age 17, that night...:

My mom had called the police as soon as she'd heard my screams, and they showed up just minutes after my father had taken his last breath.

That's how they found us; my mom staring emotionlessly at her husband's lifeless body while I was struggling to stop the tears that seemed to flow as heavy as ocean waves.

Two people came in, one man and one woman. They were wearing long coats and had official looking badges on their waists. They both immediately lowered their weapons.

"Esther?" The male detective said, putting his gun back in its holster. He spoke into an earpiece. "The suspect's been found but deceased. Send in transport."

She gave him a humorless smile. "Hey, O'shag. Michelson."

Detective Michelson examined the body. "Two shots. One to the thigh and one to the chest. We'll have to take him to Helena for an official autopsy report."

"Esther, what the hell happened?" O'shag moved closer to the bed, avoiding looking at me while offering his coat. It was then that I noticed how exposed I still was. I quickly covered myself with the coat, and my face burned with embarrassment at him seeing me so vulnerable.

"I had to, Brent." Her eyes grew glossy. "What he was going to do to her..."

Detective Michelson looked at me. "Hey, O'shag... how about I speak with the minor, and you talk to Counselor?"

Brent nodded to his partner, before putting a hand on my mom's shoulder. "Let's go, Esther."

My mom followed him out of my room, and Detective Michelson sat in her spot. Suddenly, a group of people entered the room and started working to move my father. After a random lady asked to take pictures of my bruises, the group sent to work. They took pictures of everything and then proceeded to clean. Even though they weren't acknowledging me, it felt as if everyone was staring at me. My body was still on the defense, but my mind was clouded.

Detective Michelson must've noticed my discomfort, because she nodded towards my closet. "Why don't you go ahead and get some new clothes on? They'll be gone by the time you're finished. They're efficient."

I nodded, forcing my body off of the bed. The moment my feet hit the floor was when I got my first wave of reality. My mom killed her husband... because of what he was trying to do to me. The guilt felt like a small hole, planting itself into my heart. As I got dressed, all I could think about was how this was my fault. I ruined everything.

I shakily stepped out of the closet, not prepared to see the body again. I didn't have to, though, because Detective Michelson was right. Everything was cleaned up and vacated by the time I finished getting dressed. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"How're you feeling?" She asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know, m-ma'am."

"You can call me Lisa." She smiled. "We're just gonna get a couple of questions answered now, but we may have to call you and your mom to the station at a later time to get more information."

My heart dropped. "Is my mom gonna go to jail?"

Lisa's smile turned a bit more sympathetic. "I can't say, hon. We don't know the full story yet; just what we saw. If you and your mom cooperate with us, we'll do everything we can to help the both of you."

I nodded in agreement. "Okay... what do you want to know?"

"Well first, what was your relationship with the victim?"