I realize everyone wants me to get to the conclusion of this but I feel it is important to take you on the journey just as I went on it. That way you can feel the confusion, suspicion, and doubt. Don't worry it will eventually wrap up.
The night was rough. I awakened the next morning to get ready for work. David had agreed to stay home to secure the house and let in CCBI (Crime Scene People). I watched my son eat his breakfast. I stared at him wondering Could he have? Did he? What would I do of he had? What would I say to him if he hadn't? I was teary-eyed and emotional but needed to go to work. I straightened up a bit and placed a call to the police station like I had been instructed to do. Some red-neck asshole answered. I began to explain to him that I needed CCBI to come out. He cut me off rudely and said to me "you mean to tell me your home was robbed and you called off CCBI because you were tired?!" The aggravation in his voice was apparent. I explained that I had small kids that were exhausted and terrified and we had waited 5 plus hours and I needed to do what was best for my children at that time. He yelled at me "do you not know that time is of the essence when there is a crime?!" I explained that we stayed away from the room in which entry had been made. He made a few other rude remarks. I was already emotional and could not understand what this dudes problem was. I explained to him that I am not a criminal therefore did not know how the justice system works. I was advised by the officer that it was okay to wait until the morning to call. He said "well you can call them yourself! I'm not calling!" I was shocked. I was offended. I had been victimized and could not believe how rude this guys was. I hung up and called CCBI.
The CCBI people wanted to know why I was calling instead of the police. I was told by them that citizens do not call for their own investigations that call should be made from my police station. I explained that some guy down there refused to call and told me to call myself. The CCBI person was very nice and said he would look into that for me because that was handled completely wrong. He apologized on behalf of the police department and said he would send someone out asap. I got into my car to head off to work and as I pulled out my gut was telling me what I had to do. I parked my car, I reentered my home crying and went into Michael's closet to retrieve the shoes he had on the day before. I gave them to David. I said to him "give these shoes to them to see if the prints match." I felt horrible it was like leading my son to a slaughter. I could not help but feel I was betraying him and the feeling was awful. I then left for work.
The CCBI people came and managed to get two full sets of prints, they did not seem interested in the shoes? So now all I could do was wait .I went back the next day to see the neighbor. I interrogated her myself. She said she saw my son at 210p that was a time he should have been at school. She said she saw him walk down the road and meet up with a group of older boys one street over. She said there were 5 guys in hoodies waiting. At the time she thought it was odd but had no clue that my home had just been robbed. I then placed a call to my sons school. The attendance office verified he was there. I know that attendance is done at the beginning of the period so my son could have checked in and left. So I explained to the school what was going on and asked to speak with the teacher directly. I wanted to make sure my son was there at 215 when the bell rang. He was. I was relieved about that. I immediately shared that info with my neighbor who then said she may have been off by 10 or 15 minutes which meant my son could have been at school and could have made it home in time to do the crime. My relief was short lived.
Over the next few days I could barely look at my son without crying and wondering. All things ran through my head. I knew he was drug free. I had tested him again. So it just did not make sense. But neither did his demeanor. My other kids were still scared and full of questions. Michael was not. I had to adjust my work hours so that I could be home when they got home because Marlon was scared to be home alone. There was also tension between my two sons. They had blamed each other and were not speaking. I asked Michael over and over again. I hounded him with questions I searched his room. I stalked his facebook friends. I made it clear to him that he was the number one suspect and not only did I but the entire family treated him as such.
A few days later I was still treating him weird I did not know what to think. If he would even speak to me I'd tear up. This was my baby. One particular evening I was sitting on the couch in the dark just thinking. He came in and sat down across from me. He meekly said "Mom, I did not do this" I did not answer. He then said "Mom you know I was a victim too. My stuff got stolen too." I did not answer. He looked at me sadly. I said to him "Michael she saw you." He replied "well maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was someone who looked like me." To that I said nothing. He told me there is a kid that people mix up with him all the time. I could not believe he was still lying to me so I left the room in silence.
Later that night David approached me and said he wanted to show me something. He pulled out his blackberry and showed me a picture of what looked like my son. But..it wasn't my son. He said it was a kid that went to school with Michael and Michael had showed him the picture. I stared at the picture. It was uncanny the resemblence this kid had to my son. Could this be the answer I prayed for? As I went through this kids facebook page it was clear he was in a gang. You can tell by the language and hand signs. I read all his wall posts about "getting that money" on the day my home was robbed. This kid was a complete menace to society. I spent hours picking apart his life through his face book friends. I discovered that this kid lived two streets over and walked past my street to go to school each day. I also found out that he had been in my home before. One day the boys were playing bball out front and he had walked up and asked Michael if he could get a drink of water. Michael brought him in our home. By the end of the night I had a glimmer of hope.
