Corrupted

Chapter Six

 I can’t believe, that when I breathe, there’s something good inside of me.

I never thought I would be in a jail cell for assaulting someone. I’m a nice guy; I don’t do things like this. That’s not me, but today I snapped and now here I am. Its cold in here and smells likes sour clothes. I’m starving and I haven’t heard from my friends since I got taken away. Apparently, Trevor is trying to press charges, but I don’t know how well that’s going to go. They gave me the option to call someone, but I didn’t because I can’t bear to hear any of friends’ voices right now. I know they’re all disappointed with me.

A guard comes into the room and unlocks my cell, allowing me to step out. “Come with me,” he instructs. I follow him out of the room and down a narrow hall into a small room with a glass window, only seeable one way and a table. I sit on one side of the table and he sits on the other.

I clear my throat awkwardly. “What’s happening?” I ask.

“Just answer a few questions for me.”

“Okay.”

“Did you beat up Trevor Raminson?”

“Yes.”

“Did you punch him over and over and eventually got pulled off?”

“Yes.”

He scans over the papers in his hands, before placing them on the table and staring at me, searching for something. “Tell me everything that happened and why.”

There’s probably not even a point to this, because Trevor is going to win and I’m going to lose. I’m going to go to jail and all of this will be over. “He harassed my friend a few days back and then he harassed me when I was out at Taco Bell. He called me a name and it uh…” I glance away from the man’s face and stare at the wall.

“Continue.”

“I have these flashbacks, you see; from when my father beat me. And he triggered it, so I blacked out. I’m not sure what my friend, Derek said to him, but Trevor left us alone. Today at school he was mocking me for freaking out as he put it. I told him to stop several times and he just wouldn’t. Then he threatened to hurt my friend and I just lost it.”

The man nods, processing my story in his head. “You said you were beaten by your father?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me the story there.”

“I don’t like to talk about it.”

“If I get a woman in here, will you be more willing?”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“I think you know.”

I scan his features before nodding. He leaves the room for a moment which I’m thankful for, because now I can collect myself. I let out a deep breath, resting my head on the cool table. Hours ago, I was sitting with my friends watching Adam’s soccer game and now I’m at a police station being questioned. Fantastic.

A woman with shoulder length blonde hair walks in the room. She gives me a delicate smile and slides into the seat where the man once sat, but he comes back in the room, standing in the corner silently. “Hi,” she says sweetly.

“Hi,” I reply.

“I’m Sarah.”

“Dylan.”

“I just want to ask you a few questions, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Your father beat you, correct?” I nod. “How long did this go on for?”