Mercy || Whitey Winn

(8)

      That night, I pondered over whether or not I should go to the sheriff's station and talk to Whitey. The minute I got home the reality of what I did sunk in and all of the guilt came crashing down on me. I felt bad for ditching Mrs. Dunne and my responsibility so quickly over a boy. It wasn't like me at all, and I continuously scolded myself for it. I couldn't let Whitey control my life like this. I needed to clear the air and set things straight. I didn't know if I'd have the guts to tell him how I really felt, so I'd have to go with the flow and hopefully I wouldn't have to tell him. Well, I wouldn't tell him until I knew if he liked me back or not.

      So, with my newfound determination and courage, I marched straight into town, hoping that all in my near future went well. I informed my mother of my plans before I left, needing someone's opinion. She approved and wished me luck and told me to go get him, to which I replied to with a slight eye roll alongside a laugh.

      It was currently dark outside and I hoped that Whitey would still be at the station. As I was quickly approaching the familiar building, doubt started creeping in on me. I started feeling scared and insecure. What if Whitey doesn't like me like that and just wants to be friends? What if Whitey wasn't at the schoolhouse for me? What if Whitey wasn't even there? Well, that scenario would actually be kind of nice because I wouldn't have to confront him, but I knew that it was either now or never. I didn't know when I would—or even if I could—summon up enough courage to do this again.

I slightly shook my head in effort to snap myself out of my thoughts. I needed to stop thinking and just do. So, with that last thought lingering in my mind, I walked up the steps to the sheriff station and politely knocked on the door. My heart was racing while I waited a minute for an answer. When I heard none, I knocked again—except a tad harder this time.

      Maybe Whitey hadn't heard me? Or maybe he wasn't here. At that thought my heart dropped. When I still heard no response, I knocked one last time—making sure it was hard enough to be heard quite loudly from inside. I eagerly waited another minute that seemed to last for eternity, while my heart was still pounding against my rib cage, but there was still no response. Discouraged, I turned around and started making my way down the steps. My heart seemed to sink lower and lower by every step I took. I was amazed at how quickly my hope and determination had diminished into almost nothing.

      Just as my foot hit the last step, I heard him; Whitey. He was here! I quickly turned around and sprinted up the steps.

      "Whitey?" I called out.

      "Minnie? Is that you?"

       "Yeah, it's me! Can I come in?" My heart was thudding for what felt like the millionth time tonight as I anxiously awaited his answer.

      "Please do!" He shouted back, sounding—oddly enough—relieved. Had he been waiting for me to come? Did he actually like me and want to be something more than friends? The possibilities seemed endless and I found myself becoming more and more giddy by the second.

      "Is the door unlocked?" I asked, not wanting to make a fool of myself by trying to open a locked door.

      "It should be!"

      I didn't hesitate—I quickly gripped the door handle and turned it, opening the door and revealing something I'd never thought I'd ever witness in my whole lifetime; Whitey Winn locked in a jail cell.