Arrest (verb): seize (someone) and take into legal authority and take into custody.

Now

Montana

There's not much you can say or do when there's fear in your heart but hide or fight. I chose not to hide, because I didn't know what to hide from. I got in the car and chose to fight instead, but I have no idea what I'm fighting either. As I race away from Sierra and Luke's home, leaving Calum behind, I have a feeling that he will never forgive me for doing this.

But I needed to know what damage has been done, I need to know if it hurt anyone else. I just need to know.

It's like I'm on autopilot, I know the road and the directions and it takes me home but I'm only fully aware of where I'm going when a block from my apartment building there is a congestion of cars and I can't drive any further. I don't bother looking for a parking space and park haphazardly at the side of the road and run. I can see the police cars and a fire truck, yellow tape covering the perimeter around the building to keep the people away.

Cameras are going off, news crews and their vans parked in the middle of the road and videos being taken by onlookers. Calum had warned me about all the people that would be here. I just didn't know how many.

To my dismay, I also realize that if it was a normal house, they wouldn't be here. They know it's my apartment and I don't get to go much further when someone stops me, shoving a camera in front of my face. "Montana! Is it true that it was your apartment that blew apart?"

I manage to dodge the man but the reporters around hear him and then they are all sharks who have smelt blood. Within seconds I'm surrounded, cameras flashing in my face and shouting in my ears.

"Was Calum inside? Is it true that he was injured in the explosion?"

What?

"Would you take responsibility for possibly killing your boyfriend?"

"What's the newest update?"

"Montana! Was anyone hurt?"

It's a blur of bodies and the man in front of me is much taller than I am and I know for a fact that I won't be able to push him away. I feel claustrophobic and the fear makes me want to scream.

I steadily lose all the determination I came here with in the first place. "Whatever you do, don't answer their questions!" I hear a woman shout over the voices and I purse my lips tightly, making sure I don't utter a word.

The woman takes a hold of my hand, pulling me through the crowd so that the reporters are behind us and not all around me. I recognize her as one of my neighbors and the relief is instant.

Do they teach journalists to be this violent at universities? What is their incentive for having such a murderous drive to get the story?

There is another forceful tug at my arm and I'm pulled away from the woman. I whip around, ready to punch whoever it is, but I stop, my fist an inch from Calum face. He's furious.

"You thought I wouldn't catch up?" He asks and despite all the yelling around us, I hear him. The reporters must know that he's not in the mood because they have inched away slightly, but still close enough to hear what we're saying.

"I need to see what happened here." I tug my arm away from his grip and stomp in the direction of the police officers, the woman giving me a sympathetic nod of encouragement.

"Stay the fuck back!" Calum yells at the reporters behind me and there's a loud wave of murmurs. I ignore it, heading for the first officer I see.

"By that commotion I am guessing you are the owner of that apartment?" The man raises an eyebrow with pity in his eyes. I can feel Calum beside me when the police officer lifts the yellow tape and lets us through.

"What happened?" My hands are shaking pathetically at my sides so I fist them, nails digging into the skin of my palms.

The officer scrutinizes me and Calum for a moment but finally says, "Come with me."

We head up the front stairs of the building I've walked up a thousand times without giving it a second thought. Now I'm aware of it, littered with people and things. The people give me odd looks like they aren't sure if they should blame me or not. I feel like a fragile piece of glass under their gazes and my brain shuts down to defend itself.

Everything seems fine when we walk in except for about a thousand sooty footprints on the otherwise clean marble floors of the lobby. There are police officers taking notes and pointing at the security cameras while questioning the guard on duty. He looks sick with worry.

The elevators aren't working so we are led up the stairs. Calum doesn't say a word, but I can feel his fury radiating off of him behind me. "Was anyone hurt?" I ask the officer.

"Thankfully, no. Somehow the explosion was contained into your home. We're not certain how that happened yet." Something in his voice tells me that this is a very bad idea. That I shouldn't be here. That yes, this day is about to get much worse.

When we step through the exit door and onto my apartment floor, the first thing I see is my front door, or what was my front door in shreds. The blackened wood is all over the corridor like it was put in a blender, parts of it still hanging off the hinges.

My heart falters in my chest when we step over the mess, walking towards the gaping hole where my front door was. There's a sudden flash of the first time Calum came here, how my heart broke at how beautiful he looked and I pulled him in and we kissed. How he then had to pull away and step out the door so that we would make it to our first date.

He must remember the same because fingers intertwine with mine and it's so gentle that you wouldn't think he was furious right now. I didn't know how he did it, how he could be at the extremes of two different emotions at the same time and not lose his mind.

There are people everywhere, and they all blur when I step in through the threshold. I can't believe what I'm seeing, it's as if there's been a charcoal mine in my house, or like everything was doused with black paint. There's a crack in the wooden floors and the windows have no glass, shards lying on the floor. The furniture is blackened and pushed against the walls. The television that was mounted on the wall now has a hole in its black screen.

"What is this?" Calum's grip on my hand tightens. The picture frames and all the art are slashed like they were torn into by a wild animal.

"We think it was a series of small explosions everywhere in the house. Someone lit up fireworks." Another female officer tells me, snapping off her white gloves.

"There were explosions under your bed, your couch, your bathroom, every place someone could have been. You should be glad no one was here."

The air is still foggy with smoke and it's hard to breathe. A red fire extinguisher lies against a wall and it's the only colorful thing in the room. "Montana, we need to leave." Calum whispers in my ear when the male officer steps closer.

"As you know, it is illegal to possess explosives."

It dawns on me now that they think I did this. That I endangered hundreds of people. "You don't understand, these are not mine. I've never held a firecracker in my life!"

Another officer steps into my now charred house, clearing his throat almost menacingly. Calum's arm goes around my waist. "The security footage shows you two leaving the apartment in a hurry before the explosives went off. Even if these weren't yours, by the law we have to take you in until further investigations are done."

Calum fumes. "You're kidding, you cannot arrest her for something she didn't do!"

The officer glares at us, "If you have proof of who else could have been responsible for this, you can tell us at the station and we will track that person down."

I force my mouth to open. "These explosives weren't mine, please, you have to understand. We got delivered a box this morning and it had a severed finger and then..." Everyone is staring at me like I am crazy, and maybe I am because this scenario seems too crazy for reality.

The female officer steps up to me and takes a hold of my arm, "Keep your hands behind your back, you will be released if you are proved innocent, do not attempt to resist arrest or I will be forced to take other measures."

I'm tugged away from Calum and he lurches forward but the police officer who brought us up steps in between us, "Son, we have been told that you have a reputation to uphold, don't make me cuff you and drag you to the car in front of all those cameras."

"We didn't do this! Let her go! Take me! It's my fault!" I get pulled away and down the stairs, Calum now surrounded by three police officers.

---

A birds eye view of their tragedy. I see her abandon the car in the middle of the road and barrel through the streets, the rotten bitch. The sky news camera man turns to her and I can't help the laugh that bubbles up my throat.

Good, take a close up of her terror so I can hang it up on my wall. Another car speeds up the road. Calum. Of course he would follow her even if she runs away from him. What a weak, weak little boy. Succumbing to love.

He pushes through the crowd and grabs her arm so tightly I hope it hurts her. My hand tightens around the bed post, and my tongue bleeds with how hard I bite on it. He never runs but all he's done since he met her is run.

She looks speechless, like she can't speak. I love it when she's afraid. I hope she loses it. I can almost see her shaking like a leaf when she gets thrown in that jail cell.

The officer leads them in and they are so naive. Don't they know the police will arrest them? Doesn't she know that she's destined to be locked up? To be treated like scum.

I burst with joy when they come back out a matter of minutes later, a police officer leading her by the arm. I hope she saw all the ways I ruined her home. How I exploded every space she has ever taken up.

But why didn't that bitch cuff her? How fucking dare she not humiliate her the way she deserves to be humiliated? I throw the water glass against the wall and turn back to the window, ripping off the blinders and throwing it to the ground.

Calum comes out of the building surrounded by three officers and I grind my teeth. He must have attempted to rescue his pathetic girlfriend. Fuck.

This is not going like I planned it. She was supposed to be arrested! Hand cuffed and dragged to the police car by her hair! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Unplugging the computer from its socket, I stuff it into my bag along with the camera. If they can't do things the way I want them to, they'll not do anything at all.