A hard knock hit the door. I flew myself around the spiral staircase. I opened the door to find a FRS Agent standing there. 

"Is Frederick Bishop here? I have a warrant for is arrest." I shook my head in repliance. "Who are you then?" The Agent said. "M..Michael Bishop, who are you..." I stated with a faint and silent voice. "Im Agent Mercer with the Fugitive Recovery Service... Do you know where your father or, relative is?" I shook my head, but I knew exactly where he was. He was in Jefferson, in Northern Mercer. I knew not to tell him though. "Well, you have a nice day." He stated with a firm tone. I nodded and shut the door. What could they be after him for? What could he possibly have done this time. He's been in and out of jail for years but he hasnt been for these past few. I knew he had it in for the mafia, but I wonder what it is this time that got him a warrant. I shouldnt ask questions. He'd most likely tell me to keep my mouth shut, and do as I'm told. He was never here for me to be told to do anything, anyway. Mother passed a few years ago, and father got back into drinking. It didnt bother me for some reason that I just didnt care or want to think about my father's well being. I ran myself upstairs and laid down, staring at the poster I had up on the ceiling that said, "Optimism is the answer." I trusted this sign. So I dazed myself asleep, and dreamed of what this possible nightmare my father has gotten himself into.....