”It’s not normal !”
”Stay away from my kids !!”
”Why haven’t they locked you up too??“
That was the kind of stuff you heard on a daily basis after your father’s sentencing— when the fact that you were his child was something you couldn’t hide anymore…
And honestly ? They were right…
You only avoided jail on a technicality…
That didn’t erase how you’ve been an accomplice in your father’s crimes all this time…
How you were behind the crimes that— if not coerced out of your little self would have never been found out about
You were the perfect distraction, the perfect sob story, everything a criminal had to think about when committing a crime as bad as your father, except it was all you
You weren’t released to anyone’s custody, nobody wanted you, not even the foster system
Nobody wanted anything to do with you when you were barely in your double digits
You’d given up really, what’s an ostracized child to do otherwise ?…
But the miracle came when you least expected it
You were sitting in the containment room at the precinct you’ve learned to call home— you’ve not seen outside for weeks after neighbors all signed a petition to get you removed from the general public until you were “all clear”
He was middle aged… More young than old … yet somehow he had the chief of police badge
He looked at you, really looked
You were wary of him, you didn’t know what this one wanted now… what kind of things he’d tell you… what was going through his head as he observed you
Then he crouched down to your level, he offered you a stuffed animal, your favorite animal— how he knew that about you wasn’t something that concerned you anymore
Right now it was about figuring out if this man was with you or against you…
Or if someone finally believed it was your upbringing and not you…