Into The Night

Sixty-Four

"Fine with me," I replied. "Wanna check out my room?"

"Sure."

I opened the small door that we had to go through, "Yeah, this was my escape route," I said and she nodded, then entered the room.

She looked around for a moment, knives hung on the walls with the dartboard full of the small ones. I've a rather small bed near the corner where the stairs are just overhead and the rest were some clothes then some picture frames. Across the side of the bed is the wall and the other had my small desk.

"Knife collection," she mumbled. "Is this your dad?" Taylor asked, pointing to the frame with my father in it.

"Yes," I answered. "Last picture we took, he died the same day."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's already twenty years," I said just watching as she ran her fingers through the frames.

"May I ask how?" She asked, knowing her, it's her curiosity taking over.

"Gunshot," I answered. "Investigations came out and heck, the bullet was from a policeman's gun and uh, never got justice. We weren't allowed to know."

"How'd you find out that it was from a policeman?"

"There was a chase of car nappers and policemen, sirens were around us so it wasn't difficult to tell," I answered with a smile. "I found out it was from a policeman because I sort of snuck in. I used to be too short for my age so it was easy in the station's evidence room and got through their files. That's when I realised I've got a flare for those kinds of things."

"Sounds like a hero story," Taylor commented and I smiled. "Really, I'm sorry."

"Told you, don't be. No permanent scars from that day but," I paused for a moment and then sighed, "It's why I don't use fireworks, sort of trauma but because of the military, I got over it. But because of it too, it sort of comes back."

I walked to my bed and sat down, "He was a good man, as far as I can recall but uh, pretty sure he's happy where he is."

Taylor sat beside me, playing with her hands and making the ring twist around her finger.

Silence filled the room and we sat there, staring at the wall in front of us. Regardless of everything, it did seem like a comfortable silence.

"I gotta give you something," I said, remembering what I've done when I was bored and I've bought a fair number of silver necklaces. "Don't take it as anything, I just want you to have it, alright?"

"Okay."

I stood up, taking my necklace off since it was just a simple silver chain. Carefully, I took the ring that had hung there in a while and gave it to her. "Accept it, don't you dare tell me you can't or don't want to."

"But Harry---"

"Don't leave my hand hanging. Just take it," I said sternly so she slowly did.

She stared at it for a moment, looking at the sides.

"Sorry, it's not perfect but--"

"You made this?" She asked.

"Er, yeah. Don't judge," I mumbled and sat with her.

"It's beautiful," Taylor said and looked directly into my eyes, "Thank you."

"It doesn't make up for the eight years, but — I do want you to have it. I wouldn't want it any other way."

She held it tightly, stared at it for a moment and then looked at me. "What took you so long, Harry?" She asked in a quiet voice and honestly, the question is giving me negative vibes. I didn't like it.