“Help came,” I coughed, just as the front door blew open to expose two uniformed officers and a very concerned lady I had never seen before.
She must be the ‘nosey’ neighbor our mother had always complained about.
The big, burly men barreled into the house, shoving the bulky furniture out of their way like it was nothing.
Cass came up to stand next to me, balancing Naomi in one arm, and she reached out to grab my hand.
She didn’t notice that I was clutching the bloody knife she had used to kill our mother… but the police did.
(Age ten)
“You’re not going to get in trouble if you tell the truth,” the detective said. “It was clearly self-defense; we just need to make sure we put the right information in the papers.”
I was sitting in a plastic chair in what I heard the police call a ‘soft room.’ My legs dangled in the air, and I kicked them in agitation as the man questioned me.
This room was much quieter than the rest of the station, and I was grateful they hadn’t made me sit outside in one of those other rooms. The police station was bright, busy, andloud.I hadnever been anywhere like this before or seen so many people in one place.
This detective seemed nice. He had given me a packet that he told me was full of sweets called‘fuzzy peaches,’and they were pretty much the most amazing things I had ever tasted. I still didn’t trust him, though. He had separated me from my sisters, and I didn’t like that. Plus, I was frustrated that he didn’t seem to really belisteningto me. No matter how many times I answered the same question, he seemed to keep wanting me to repeat my answer.
The detective’s favorite thing to ask me was if I wassurethat Cassandra was the one who had killed our mother.
Instead of answering, I just sighed and looked at my feet.
I didn’t have any shoes. We had never left the house, so there really hadn’t been any need for something like shoes.
Everything was too much. I was shaking and overwhelmed. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide from the world.
Staring at my socked feet, I sniffed.
I didn’t want to be here… but I also didn’t want to be where I had come from. Was there somewhere in between? Somewhere safe I could go with my sisters where no one would hurt us?
Suddenly, the door opened, and another policeman walked in. A flash of annoyance crossed the detective’s face at the interruption.
“Someone’s here; he wants to see the kid.”
The detective who’d been interviewing me looked even more annoyed.
“I’ll be right back,” the detective said before stepping out of the room with the other cop. They shut the door behind them, but it didn’t close all the way, and I could hear their muffled conversation through the crack.
“What do you mean? Has the captain approved this?” the detective asked in a low voice.
“He’s from the state; the captain has no say. His name is Damian. Damian Ryker.”
The detective got really quiet after that.
“Alright,” the detective finally said before coming back into the room.
“Callum?” he said softly. I glanced up at him, chewing on my chapped bottom lip, wishing I had some fuzzy peaches left to chew on instead.
“Someone else is going to come talk to you for a bit, okay?”
I shrugged. It didn’t matter to me. I just wanted this to be over.
The detective left, and I went back to staring at my shoeless feet, which dangled under the table.
Soon, the door opened again, and another pair of feet appeared on the other side of the table.
These feet had shoes on. They wore polished dress shoes with fancy pants cuffed neatly around the ankles.
