Nightmare on Third Street - Chapter Sixteen

My head was bowed as I sat in the waiting room, my brother sitting next to me, my parents standing on the other side of the room, staring at me patiently. Dad had this look of rage on his face, for he was getting sick of waiting for what I was supposed to tell them. Dominic was quiet, sitting next to me, with his hands clasped in his lap as he shifted a bit nervously. Mom, ever patient Mom, was smiling sweetly, trying to reassure me that everything was okay. The waiting room seemed to be quite smaller than it had been the last time I was here, nearly an hour before.

I sighed and kept my head bowed, glaring down at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Dad cleared his throat, a signal for me to get talking. I only shook my head, not ready to go into detail. Had Dominic told them anything? If so, what had he said? God, if he had told them about what had happened at the house with me, and in the kitchen...I'd never hear the end of it. I'd have to move back into their house and they would never let me out of my sight. If they believed him, that is. If they didn't, they might push it away as if it were his imagination. That would be better. But the way they were looking at me now...

"Bryan," my mother said patiently, giving me a reassuring smile as I brought my gaze to hers. "Honey. What happened at your place? Why was your friend at your place that late at night? And hurt?" God, she was asking the questions I had hoped she wouldn't ask. But still, I guessed these questions were better than the ones she would be asking if she knew what was really going on. So, Dominic hadn't told her...I was going to have to thank him later.

"Well," I said, trying to figure it out as I spoke. "You see....He...Um...how should I put this....well...the band," I said, getting an idea. "He's a new guitarist in the band, or at least he might be. He came over so we could practice and see what kind of skill he had. That's why he was over."

My parents both looked at each, and I frowned to myself. 'Oh, nice move, Bryan,' I mentally scolded myself. 'Yeah, they're really going to believe that after all the stuttering you did at the beginning. Smooth move, idiot.' But, amazingly, my parents nodded their heads in approval. I stared.

"How was he hurt?" my father asked in that demanding tone of his.

I sighed heavily and bowed my head again. "Accident with a knife," I murmured.

"Why did he have a knife if he was there to practice?"

God, I was being interrogated by my parents! Would this never end? "We were taking five," I said, working it out as I went along. "He was cutting off some of the ham to make a sandwhich. The knife slipped when he pulled away, and, well...here we are." I tried to sound as convincing as possible, but I wasn't sure how well it worked.

There was a long pause, and then my father said, "The police have been notified."

My head shot up to look at the two of them, my eyes wide. "What?" I gasped. "Why?"

"Because it was a suspicious accident," he continued slowly. "We had to be sure you didn't do it."

I stared. Me? Do that to Elrick? God, I wouldn't do that to my worst enemy, let alone someone who was trying help me! How could they think that? "What?" I gasped again. "How...?"

"We just had to be sure," my mother said, cutting in. "Because, of course, the police will think of you as the most likely suspect."

"It wasn't me!" I said loudly, probably louder than necessary. "It was...an accident. An accident, that's all."

They nodded. "We believe you, son," my father said. Of course he did, even though I was lying; it hadn't been an accident. But I had never given them reason to think of me as a liar, so of course they were going to believe what I told them. God.

Two more people came to enter the room. My gaze darted to the door, and I froze in my seat. Two men dressed in police unniforms were standing in the doorway, looking at me with expressionless faces. I gulped and tried to become one with my seat. Jesus, I had never gotten in trouble with the law in my entire life, and now they came hunting for me in the waiting room at the hospital? Could this day get any worse?

"Mr. Randall," one of them said, addressing me. "We have reason to believe that attacked your friend and put him in the hospital. We have been told to take you in, suspecting you of assualt and attempted murder."

I stared. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. What the hell?! Would I ever do that to Elrick?! God! Of course, things always get worse. "W-What?" I stammered, unbelieving.

"Bryan didn't do it," Dominic spoke up, glaring at the police officers.

The paid him not attention. "We would like you to come with us." They flashed their badges. God.

I shakily rose to my feet, looking at my parents pleadingly. They shook their heads; there was nothing they could do. I had to do this on my own. Gulping, swallowing my fear, I followed the police officers out of the room and into the hallway. Once the door to the waiting room shut and we rounded a corner, they stopped me and told me to face the wall. I did so, clenching my eyes tightly closed. They forced my hands behind my back and handcuffed them, and then shoved me forward.

Were they allowed to do that? I was going quietly, were they allowed to handcuff me? Wasn't this a free country? Wasn't I innocent until proven guilty? Why did I have to be handcuffed? Needless to say, I was freaking out. I felt twitchy and nervous, unable to have control over my hands. I felt vulnerable. Sure, my brother had tied my hands countless of times, but I had always been able to get away. I had been ALLOWED to get away. Here, though...I wasn't supposed to even try.

They led me out of the building and into their police car. Shoving me into the back, they told me to mind my head and then they shut the door on me. They got in and started the car, and before I knew it, we were heading down the street, toward the Police Station on Wallace Avenue. God damn it!

I couldn't shake the fear growing within me. I had seen those cop shows. Dozens of men had been thrown in jail, only to be proved, later, that they were innocent. God, I didn't want to go to jail! Or prison, or anything! This wasn't fair. Wait. Wait, there was hope.

Yes, there was hope! Elrick. He could tell them it wasn't me if he woke up. He could...no, WHEN he woke up. When he woke up, he could tell them it wasn't me, and then I'd be off the hook. As we drove on, I silently begged Elrick to wake up soon.