The Police Station

The police-station doors were twice the height I imagined. I know that's a rather strange thing to say, but I felt as if they were standing ten feet tall to overpower me on purpose. Even though the plump policeman had said I was to be asked a few more questions, it felt as if I was being treated as a criminal. Everybody was watching me when I left the party, and I felt that their judgemental faces had followed me all the way here. However a slight perk to these circumstances, was that the cold girl had also been asked to answer some questions. Her face said it all; the scowl as if it were my fault. Obviously it was not, however she may not have known that, so I forgive her for her impoliteness.

I was escorted to a cold uncomfortable bench to which I had to remain seated on until I was called. I watched all of the situations around me. It was almost as if I was in the middle of several stories all at once. It was most peculiar, and slightly baffling. I had only just begun to imagine what every person’s story was, when I found it was a bit odd to do so. However I ignored my inner voice and managed to imagine one. An older man, maybe perhaps in his late forties, was standing at the counter raising his voice about a petty crime. He looked, not so much poor, but as well-off as me-good connections. I can imagine, that perhaps he owned a made to measure tailors chain, passed down through his family of course. And a nasty burglar had stolen his profits for the day but the police refused to listen to him as he was also semi-drunk. Wobbling as if he were in heels. Or seasick. 

Relatively happily sitting there inside my imagination, the cloud was broken by the moustached policeman. He aggressively spoke my name as if he was about to arrest me. I steadied myself, and smoothed my dress down as I stood. Still without any shoes on, I again cautiously walked through the station and pass the drunken man who had unfortunately been sick onto to floor, making my task even harder. I was escorted down a long dark corridor, with cement flooring. We had to pass some of the cells, catching the attention of some of the inmates who had probably never seen a middle class women walk down this path; barefooted. I kept my head held high as we turned into a room with a wooden table and two chairs on either side. For I had nothing to worry about, I hadn't done anything wrong. 

I sat down onto one of the chairs with folded arms and the moustached man onto the other. He proceeded to ask an officer to close the door and stand outside, so it was just us in the room, which I’m sure wasn’t right. He then got out his notebook from the crime scene and scrolled though a few pages. The silence was unbearable, and I didn’t when he was going to speak, if he was ever was planning to.

“Is this going to take long?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable as he was staring straight at me “only I don’t know why you’re interviewing me. It’s not as if I should even be here. You should respect the fact I’ve just seen a dead body, and my friend has disappeared.” He broke the eye contact first by dropping it to the floor.

“Miss Archer, everybody at the party is a suspect.” He sighed with boredom “and your friend has not gone missing. He does not exist.” He said it like he’s repeated himself thousands of times. I didn’t much appreciate this as I know I’ve only mentioned Tommy three times: once at the party; another in the van and just now.

“Miss Archer, do you feel all right? You must have hallucinated your friend for support. Shock can do that to people…” he tried to explain.

“I am quite all right.” I snapped, releasing my arms from their fold and slamming on the table. How rude he was for suggesting that my mental condition was not stable. 

“Esther, you can trust me. I can help you” he reached out to hold my hand. I pulled away quickly. His face looked almost broken.

“I’m sure police officers aren’t meant to be this friendly.” I said suggestively. Trying to cheer him up but not aware or ready of what was about to happen.

“Miss Arche-Esther, you are a beautiful young woman, who has her rights to say what she wants to say. I’m sure your…friend wouldn’t mind you being here. He’d want the best for you, to make sure you were safe.” He was trying to cheer me up on the whole Tommy situation. But then it went too far. He stood up from the table and pulled out my chair. I thought he was going to let me go, but then he held my hand and guided me up. He then became aggressive. He pushed my back onto the wall and held me there by his body. I could feel his breath on my neck, as I was slightly taller than him. 

“Sir I-I don’t think this is appropriate…” I spluttered, being sure to stay away from eye contact. His hands held my wrists up against the wall and then handcuffed them.

“Shh, nobody has to know about this” he whispered into my ear. I instantly become all hot and flushed. I tried to struggle out of his hold, but he just leant on me. “Don’t struggle, dear”

“Excuse me sir, I will report you for this behaviour,” still keeping my eyes firmly shut. I was trying to keep calm as I knew I could not shout for help as nobody would believe what had happened. I saw that the keys to the locked door were on the table. I remember now. 

“You will do nothing of the sort girl!” he came up close to me again. I had to struggle for my own breath. Remembering a man’s weak spot, I lifted my foot and gave him a right kick in his manhood. He fell to the ground. I grabbed the keys from the table and unlocked the door. Running as fast as I could in only my underclothing, I grabbed a police jacket from the counter and burst through the tall doors. I ran through the dark and empty streets whilst pulling the large jacket over myself to keep from the cold. I saw a dark alley. It was probably not the smartest idea I could have had at this time of night but I couldn't think of another. I had to get away. 

I turned into the alley and slid my back down the dirty brick wall to catch my breath. I wasn't sure how far I had got from the station, but it felt like a safe distance away.  Suddenly a crunching sound echoed in my ear. I saw a shadowy figure emerge from the darkness; its feet shuffling towards me. I tried to scramble to my feet but he hushed me. I think it was a man, by the deep shushing, if you catch my thread. 

“Esther, shh. Don't worry I won’t hurt you” he roughly said. How did he know my name? How could this destitute man possibly know my name? Wait a moment…

“Tommy? Tommy is that you?” I asked in desperation. Everything would be easier from then onwards. I wouldn't be to blame; he could explain where he rushed off to. If he could only confirm-

“Who’s Tommy? My name’s Jed. Jed McCrery.” He offered me his hand, I refused. He looked me up and down realising the lack of clothes I had on. He whistled. “Better find you some clothes eh Archer?” his cheeky grin brightening any darkness, anywhere in the world.

Author's Note

again criticism always welcome :)