Forged by The Flame

Chapter 4: Burning Up

"Where were you when this happened?" the officer asked, tapping on his notepad. I told him I skipped class because I wasn't feeling too well, and that Drew told me to go and relax, saying we would meet up later. Then he asked Sam, who was with me also being questioned. Apparently, Stevie wasn't the only one there; he had his goons, a bat, and who knows what else.

When I thought the torture was done, it wasn't. The cops brought in Stevie to be questioned based off of our stories. He saw me and smirked, knowing damn well what he did. I stood up, my hand already in a fist.

"Davis, no," Sam pulled me back into the bench. "If you do something now, you'll only make it worse." Her eyes showed pain, she was just as upset as I was.

"Sorry, Sam... I'm just... angry." I reluctantly released my hand.

The precinct was crowded; thugs, gangsters, parents still looking for their children. It's funny, I never realize how messed up the world was until I was in that place. Cops sitting at each desk doing paperwork, which could only help the victim, feel as though they are being helped. It wasn't like a television show, where it takes an hour to find the bad guys. Some cases take a while to solve, years even. Then there are the ones that are unsolved and become a cold case. My mom used to be a detective before joining the military. She used to tell me about her cases, which she seemed proud of, but there were some that still gnawed at her.

"You think he'll get away with this?" Sam asked, gripping the bench.

"Honestly..." I gave her another look, but she was staring at the ground, "his family is pretty big in this city, so... maybe." The words left a bad taste in my mouth. I wanted to spit and puke right there. Maybe Sam would laugh. I knew she needed cheering up, at the same time, so did I. "Aren't you part of the school newspaper?" I asked, attempting to get her mind off everything.

"Yeah, I'm actually head off it since the seniors graduated. I'm surprised you knew that." She looked at me like I was one of the suspects in question.

"I—uh," a ball formed in my throat, "I overheard... people." I stated awkwardly. The real reason I knew was that I kind of stalked her a little. "How is that stuff, like searching for stories and other newspaper things?"

"Well, I never explained the process to anyone before, but if I were to describe it personally, I'd say... amazing!" Her face lit up, all the thoughts of what happened must've burrowed to the back of her head.

She explained how when she was younger, she'd follow her older sister around, writing all the bad things she did on a little note pad. Then, during breakfast, she passed out crudely written articles, causing hell for her sister. Turned out Sam wanted to be a journalist in Pride, finding the real meat and grit of the city, which I thought was cute. I don't know why, but at that moment I was entranced. Watching her from a distance was nothing compared to being with her face to face.

"What about you, Davis?"

I broke out of my trance, "What?" I asked, surprised.

"Well, what about you; are you in any clubs or is there anything you want to be in the future?"

I took me a second. The first thing I thought was, your boyfriend, but I didn't think that'd pan out right. The whole thing with my ability was off the table too. My life had never seemed so boring or irrelevant until that moment. "I mean, my parents are military, so, maybe something with that?" I answered, unsure.

"You're telling me there hasn't been one thing you've wanted to do? To be?" her face was funny like she was stumped by the mystery of Davis Hayes. "Okay, we're going to figure this out, the curiousness/journalistic side of me has to know." She smirked and began to ask me a sequence of questions.