Chase entered the house as secretly as possible, shrugging off his pitiable excuse for a coat. He remembered to step around the couple of creaky floorboards and skip escaping through the dining room where his father was sure to be watching something on TV. He searched the hallways and finding them empty, took a deep breath to relax the tempo of his heart. I can't keep doing this… He told himself as he stealthily slid along the wall, hoping to avoid being caught in the remaining lights in the house.
That was when the hallway light switched on.
Chase groaned, still plastered against the wall in a deep sweat. Caught. He knew he what he had to do though. He had to tell them. All of it. It was just a matter of time until someone found him outside his room let alone out of his bed. Chase cautiously glanced up; sure that anyone could hear his heart beating if they tried. "Chase-" He faced his frail mother and even more terrified 13-year-old sister, Jessie.
"Chase - we called the police and everything. We were so… worried!" He watched his mother choke on a new set of tears. Worried about what? His mind kicked into gear again, remembering his news.. He stared into their eyes, watching their fear jump through every one of their emotions. Chase leaned against the wall, waiting for some verdict so that he could escape to his room. He glanced at Jessie, who was trembling, tears staining her once rosy cheeks.
"They… it said there was a riot at… at the ring…" His eyes darted elsewhere, trying to avoid the truth. I was there. "They… there were… were shots…" I saw that. He stared back at his younger sister with furrowed eyebrows as she continued. "We… we… I… thought you were dead." He raised an eyebrow in jest, still shivering from the outside cold. Dead?
"Well, yes, there was." He paused for a moment. "Two men got into a fight and then one brought out the gun. It was an accident. I promise." Somehow that didn't seem to reassure his family members too much. But he stood up straighter anyway; with all the energy he had left. "What? You guys don't trust me?" Silence filed into the room as their eyes traveled to his clothing.
Sweat was pouring down his forehead, and his shirt was filled with numerous holes so that everyone could see the cuts and bruises scrambled across his chest. They could all hear his ragged breathing. And they could all guess what he'd been up to. His favorite past time: boxing. Chase stepped forward, trying to give a good impression, but instead his eyes grew dark with pain. His mother frowned slightly.
"I… I don't see how I can Chase. I- I'm scared for you." He grunted, trying to calm down and regain his regular breathing. He felt his eyes starting to close from exhaustion but he was already in enough trouble. The last thing that Chase remembered was Jess screaming.