Three houses away from my house there was a squalid white shack. The windows, smeared with earth, were always dark and absent from any activity; however, today the windows reflected flashing red and blue lights. An officer headed towards the dilapidated house, while his companion hovered near the vehicle. Thaddius Clutch, a lanky young man with shaggy dark hair, sat in the back with his head bowed. Overgrown grass loomed over the sidewalk where Mrs. Clutch stood as the officer approached her. Peering out the window, I saw Mrs. Clutch raise a hand to her mouth as wrinkles contorted on her forehead. The officer spoke to her as if a weight was weighing on him, leaning back on his heels and resting his hands on his hips. Every now and then he pointed to the vehicle containing Thaddius, and Mrs. Clutch's shoulders began to tremble. This continued for a few more minutes before the officer retreated to the car, turned off the lights and drove away from the sidewalk with Thaddius still behind. Mrs. Clutch remained on the lawn for a long time. My heart went out to her, but I couldn't move away from the window, rather I simply watched as she cried before dragging herself back into the house. Lingering murmurs rang through the halls the day after Thaddius's scandal with the police. One advantage of living in a small town was that everyone knew your business before you did. In this case, theories about Thaddius' arrest ranged from the most innocent of criminal acts to some high-class crimes. “I heard he stole a woman's purse at a gas station.” said a boy. "He threatened the woman with a knife, didn't he?" questioned by another passerby. "No!" Alice shouted. She tossed her hair in the middle of a sheet of paper on the sidewalk. I was ready to apologize, but the words died on my lips as I looked up. It was Thaddius. Anger lit up his face, but he softened when he recognized it was me. There was a cigarette between his lips, but he took it between his fingers and threw it away. Slowly his eyes connected with mine and the world seemed to slow down. I saw a familiar gleam in his eyes, yet they belonged to a stranger's face. Maybe I couldn't stand Alice or anyone else who slandered Thaddius' name because it reminded me of myself. It reminded me of everyone. It reminded me of the individual who fell because no one was there to help him. He couldn't face or conquer his demons like others did. "I like your freckles." I blurted out, trying to kill the silence between us. His eyes found my shoes as a half smile graced his lips. And he still liked my sneakers.