Triple-Chocolate Cheesecake

By Emalee Castro

There were four different types of cheesecake on the tray, and I wanted to taste them all. My mom was taking a mid-afternoon nap on the couch and my dad was busy outside. This was my moment. Eating only a piece from each of the flavors was not enough to compare them, I needed another taste. Crunching on the gravel driveway. There were people outside, and I woke up my mom to deal with it. She went outside, and my little brother came downstairs. An accomplice would make the possible punishment easier to handle. I invited him to eat the next flavor of cheesecake with me: triple-chocolate. It was not hard to convince him. We each had half a piece and let the chocolate melt down our hands. The voices were getting louder outside. Quickly washing our hands to get rid of the evidence, we stood on the chairs to reach the_ sink. Looking out the window just above, I saw three cars. Recognizing the red and blue stripes from my older brother's Hot Wheels, I freeze up. My dad always told me to never fear cops but seeing them take away more family members than saving people, I never got around to trusting them. And I definitely wasn't trusting them after this because my dad was being led by one of them with his hands behind his back. I knew what this meant.

I couldn't get a word out of my mom's mouth for hours after she came inside, besides, "He's okay, it's okay." and "Don't go outside." The sky darkened outside and something erupted in her. She grabbed our shoes and shoved us into the car. We drove for hours in silence. It was completely pitch-black outside by the time we pulled into my grandma's driveway in Chicago, Illinois. I was exhausted from the trip and looking after my brothers, the yellow streetlights transformed into stars that would be otherwise impossible to discover in the light-polluted city. I woke up before my brothers and joined my mom in the kitchen. There was a cup of something in front of her that went cold a while ago. Before I could make myself known, the phone sitting in the chair next to her started ringing. It was impossible not to hear, but it seemed like she was waiting for it with the way she reached out. It was dad calling from the jail cell. He had a fifteen-second conversation individually with my brothers and me. My brothers showed much more enthusiasm than I did.

Truthfully, I didn't want to talk to him. I knew he was in there for a reason and that was enough for me to declare him guilty. It could have also been more resentment than anything as I never got to finish that piece of triple-chocolate cheesecake with my brother.