Issues / ROMAN GODFREY / #wattys2019

Fourteen.

Mariana had paced around her room for the rest of the afternoon. The sound of music came from downstairs as her dad was fixing a leak under the sink, but she was avoiding him. Now that a few hours had passed she started to become embarrassed at the fact that out of all things she was crying about cheer in front of the boys. It's one thing to cry over the death of her friend, but for something that is soon going to be a distant memory is stupid.

She will be grieving Brooke for the rest of her life.

She went to use the bathroom until her dad yelled something in Spanish, sounding in pain. Mariana ran down the steps into the kitchen to see Miguel waving his hand, sticking his finger into his mouth, "Are you okay, dad?"

"I'm fine, Maria," her father said, wiping his finger on the towel he had draped over his shoulder, "Just a little pinch is all," he said, looking up at her. "Is everything okay? You didn't say much when you got home,"

Mariana shrugged, taking a seat on one of the barstools. "I've just been a little stressed out, Lucy has been getting on all of our asses lately, and she never really gave Brooke a proper goodbye,"

Miguel sighed, thinking of the brunette who he had watched grow up along with his precious mija, she was a good kid. 

"Sometimes ones who are in power lose sight of what's important," Miguel kneeled down with his wrench. "I wouldn't let her get to you, Mija, one day she will get what's coming to her, lo juro, mi amor,"

Mariana smiled before heading back to the bathroom, and while she was washing her hands, she could hear her phone ringing in her room. Mariana plopped on her bed, seeing that it was Peter. He had never called her before, it was always Roman. "Hello?" she answered.

"Roman just got arrested!" he quietly hissed, like he was trying to hide from someone or something.

"What!?" she asked, springing up so fast that blood seemed to rush from her head, making her slightly dizzy, "What the hell were you guys doing!?"

"We're at that fucking steel mill, the fucking cops showed up, and he didn't do the fucking roofie eyes as he did to Lisa's dad," he said, and she could imagine him yanking at his hair. "He took his fucking keys, and I have to walk home-"

"I'll come and get you, don't move!" she said, rushing towards her closet and yanking our a hoodie, slipping it on. "Explain everything when I get there."

-

"We found the other half of Lisa," Peter recanted, grimacing at his coffee in front of him. "We couldn't figure out who would hang around there. Clearly, the police don't patrol the area as much as they should,"

Mariana had been staring out the window, watching as cars drove by without care and the ones who walked down the sidewalk, slipping in and out of the stores lining the street. She turned to look at him, and he looked too pale, even for Peter. 

"You think Olivia has something to do with that?"

Peter shrugged, "I don't know, it could be anyone, or maybe they just don't care anymore," as much as she hated to say it, she agreed with him.