The Man In Blue

April 7, 2009
By Anonymous

The police man, wearing blue, walked toward our car and dread shocked through my system. Larissa was frozen in the drivers seat. She jumped in her seat at the sound of his voice.

“License and registration please ma’am.”

“What did I do wrong,” she mouthed to me, her lips becoming obsolete as they faded to the color of her now, pale skin.

“You ran a red light after it had turned red for quite a while and then, you were going over the speed limit on top of it,” the police man’s deep voice was difficult to adjust to. I hadn’t expected it him to answer, catching me off guard. I had to get us out of this situation, in some way. A warning without a license? Not even possible. I leaned closer to the window and he propped his elbow against my mom’s car. His head, almost in the window, I gulped at the thickness of his wrinkles and the permanent scowl etched across his face. He looked the stereo typical officer. Hardened from years of lying teens, we were noting new to him.

“We apologize,” I began, se4arching for the words to say in his rounded tented sunglasses. “You see, Larissa here, is new to driving…I was just taking her for a spin...” This didn’t seem to sit well with him at all.

“How old are you two?”

“Well, officer, she’s fifteen.” I gestured towards the solemn figure next to me.

“But…how old are you?” He almost seemed scared to ask.

“Well, I will be May…” To my sheepish surprise, he laughed.

“Are you serious?” I wasn’t sure how to reply so, I just didn’t. “Do you realize how many laws you just broke?” Any hope I had gained from his chuckle was completely drained in that moment. He licked his lips, full of color, contrary to either rone of our face colors. “Let me see your permit please.” I felt the need to talk for her because of the fact that her knuckles were locked to the steering wheel and I could see her legs trembling. She didn’t move or speak.

“Well, you see officer-“

“No ma’am, let her speak for herself.” I fell silent as I anticipated her lips froming the words with reluctance. The first thing he did to show that she was alive was blink. She didn’t move, she just blinked.



“I don’t have it…” “I don’t have it,” she repeated, as if realizing it herself.

“Mom?” The phone was dirty and at the moment I was desperately wanted a sanitary wipe.
“What’s wrong with you?” She could hear the tension in my voice. She always could. I wasn’t sure how to word it. I couldn’t lie as I had approximately three hours ago when I said we were walking to the store. I wish I could be asking her if she wanted white or wheat. I realized my silence was becoming more worrisome than the actual truth as her imagination began to run amuck. Besides, the officer was beginning to look more irritated as silence filled the room.
“Brittney-why aren’t you calling from your phone?” She sounded worried. “Who’s phone is this? Where are you?”
Mom, I’m in jail…”

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book