The Window

I jumped the moment Martin knocked on the window.  I had been waiting for him, but I honestly wasn’t sure he would show up.  He had been talking so much about his great desire to sneak out of the house, I didn’t believe he would go through with it.   

At seventeen, I never could quite believe he had never snuck out of his house before.  He had the perfect opportunity in the fact there was a French door leading into his backyard and no alarm system.  Maybe I shouldn’t have pressured Martin to sneak out, but I kept telling myself he wouldn’t show up.  He had never succumbed down to peer pressure before, so I was curious why he did this time.  The look on his face told me something was wrong.  He wasn’t here because he wanted to be here, he was here because something happened. 

I quickly threw open my bedroom window to let Martin in.  But he wouldn’t come inside. 

“It’s my dad.  He knows.  He’s loading his gun.”  Then Martin turned and ran across the street in the opposite direction of his house.  In the dim light of the streetlamps, I saw Martin’s hulking father, heading out his front door.  But he wasn’t coming toward me and he wasn’t following Martin.  He was heading toward the park where I knew Mr. Cooper often spent the night.  Mr. Cooper who had never done anything to Martin or his father.  At least nothing Martin’s father should know about. 


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