Three Years Ago

DCI Sam Tyler listened as the clock above his office door struck half five, signalling the end of the day. He sighed, leaning back in the black leather chair as he squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his temples impatiently. “I’m getting too old for this shit” He thought miserably to himself. He sat behind an old wooden desk which stood rather tall and grand before him upon which stood a near empty coffee mug with the words World’s Best Dad imprinted on the sides and a large brown case file which lay closed. He reached for the mug, taking a sip of the coffee while he gathered his thoughts together; its bitter sweet taste seemed almost heavenly. He eyed the case file; he hadn’t seen a girl this messed up in years.

There was a quiet knock on the door. He quickly swallowed his coffee, straightening his tie. “It’s open” He called out, standing up and waited for them to enter. The door opened and large redhead girl timidly stepped into the frame. Despite being 23 and working for the Hertfordshire and Essex police, Sarah Smith wasn’t your typical Essex girl. She stood around 5’2, wearing long brown skirt and a white unironed blouse as she nervously fiddled with a blue pen she carried in her hand. “Excuse me Mr Tyler...” She started. He sighed; He had grown weary of her. “It’s DCI Sarah, for the last time it’s DCI” He growled, quickly cutting her off. She nodded shyly, her cheeks flushing a deep red as she quickly stared down at the floor. “Sorry sir” She replied quietly. “Miss Ballato is still waiting to see you in reception” she added, refusing to meet his eye.

Sam nodded, sitting back down in his chair. He picked up her case file, quickly flicking through it one last time before placing it open on the last page. “Send her in” He retorted, wavering his hand to dismiss her. She nodded and quickly walked out of the room, shutting her door behind her. He groaned, dragging his hands down his face as she finally left the room. His wife was right; the stress was getting to him. He had seen a great deal of criminals and victims in his time; but she was different. He had seen her outside in the waiting room and the sheer sight of her sent a chill down his spine; with the long blonde hair and deep blue eyes she almost looked the spitting image of his daughter. That was the trouble with dealing with kids, he always found himself getting too involved with the case, possibly because he had two of his own at home and the very thought of them coming to harm made him sick to the stomach.

There was another knock at the door. He knew at once that it was her. Straightening himself out, he stood up, preparing to greet this damaged young girl; promising himself not to get too involved this time.

******

The door suddenly opened. She suddenly found herself facing DCI Tyler; a thin smile crept across the corners of her face. DCI Tyler was a man of average build who stood around 6’2 with dark blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes with a face and smile so angelic that it could charm characters most vile. His dark suit was sober but comforting. I am the man you can bring your problems to, that suit spoke to the victims of injustice. To hired help, it spoke more sternly; this had better be good. He sat down at the desk opposite her, offering her and her social worker Denise, a seat. “Can I get you a drink? Maybe something to eat? I hear you’ve been here a while” He questioned, adding a friendly touch to his tone. She shook her head, her eyes fixed on her nail bitten hands which rested firmly in her lap. “She’s already got a glass of water thank you” Denise responded, signalling towards the glass of water that she held on tightly to in her lap.

DCI Tyler nodded, his eye fixed upon her. “I understand you’ve been through a lot these past few weeks, but unless you give us any details as to who this person is, we can’t help you” He said softly, doing his best to try and help the young girl. She looked up, her face almost emotionless. The faint shadow of a black eye still ghosted upon her flesh and the various other wounds which had been inflicted upon her frail and tiny body as almost disappeared. Yet, behind all this was a broken girl, a damaged girl. He offered her a sweet smile of comfort and linked his pale hands together.

“Miss Ballato now I know you’re probably not in the mood for talking right now, but I have to establish a picture of why you’re in this state” he assured. She shook her head, reaching for the cup and taking a sip of the coffee; its bitter sweet taste seemed almost heavenly. She felt her teeth chatter against the glass and quickly put it down; both her hands were trembling. For Christ sake girl calm down! “Frankly Miss Ballato not many girls walk in here with bloodied clothes begging for help, I need you to tell who did this to you.” He explained in a voice which reminded her of her father when she was a child; whenever she had hurt her knee falling over or when she had a bad day at school and had come home crying.

She shook her head. The police couldn’t help her. Nobody could, not anymore. Suddenly, she dropped the glass, listening as it shattered into a million pieces upon the carpet as she clutched at her head in agony. It was back. The maniacal laughter was back, laughing over and over again. It wouldn’t stop. “It hurts so much” She cried, tears running down her cheeks as the two adults crowded round her, trying anything they could to help her. The laughter got louder, dragging across her mind and burning under her skin. She wanted to claw at her flesh, she wanted to dig out that noise, that horrifying noise and claw it out of her body. “Please stop, please, just make it go away” She whispered, she couldn’t see, she couldn’t breathe. The room was spinning. She felt her chest heavy as she began to suffocate under the laughter. In the distance, underneath the cackling from inside her head, she heard DCI Tyler calling out her name. The world around her grew clearer as she began to come back to reality. Her eyes refocused and she found herself staring into the eyes of DCI Tyler, his hands gripped tightly on her shoulders as he gently shook her.

Her eyes widened as she quickly backed away from him, realising that she had fallen from the chair and onto the floor. Denise quickly came to her side, wrapping her arms around her as she stroked her hair. “shh shh It’s ok, everything will be fine, everything will be ok” she whispered, calming her down as she flashed DCI Tyler a stern look. “Miss Ballato I’m sorry, but I need his description, I need to find the guy who... who raped you” He insisted sympathetically, struggling to form the sentence together as the sight of her, crumpled up on the floor, battered and in tears, hurt too much, even for the hard faced DCI could bear.

******

They sat in the car in total silence. Denise’s eyes fixed upon the road as she drove the young girl up to Bedlam Mental Institute, gripping the steering wheel tightly as she felt a wave of guilt wash over her. I knew she wasn’t ready; I shouldn’t have pushed her like that. She took out a cigarette from the pocket of her old, worn out parka, lighting it up and taking a drag; that cancerous delight was enough to numb all the pain and guilt that all the morphine in the world could not. “We’re nearly home now” She lied, breaking the silence as she nervously took another drag of her cigarette. The girl said nothing, the quiet laughter going round and round her head as she stared out of the window and into the darkness outside. Denise refused to look at her, she knew that this was wrong but after the years of abuse and the episode at the police station, she was left with no other choice. No amount of talking could help her anymore. She needed medical help.

As the car pulled up onto the driveway of the hospital, she flashed Denise a terrified look. “No, please you can’t. D please I’m sorry, please don’t leave me here!” She begged, clinging onto her sleeve. Denise shook her off, struggling to hold back the tears. “I’m sorry” She whispered, watching as two male nurses came to take her inside. They ran over to the car, trying to pull her out as she fought back, kicking and screaming, pleading for them to stop, to leave her alone. “You promised you’d help me; you promised me that you wouldn’t leave me! D please doesn’t leave me here” She cried, watching her social worker crying in the driver’s seat. She kicked out, hitting the nurse square in the chest. He cried out in pain, producing a needle from his pocket. She screamed, struggling in the other nurses grasp as she tried to escape. She watched as the wounded nurse grabbed her arm and stuck the needle deep in her vein. She felt her body grow light, the world around her spinning. Her cries stopped as she fell limp against the nurse, flashing a mad smile before the world went dark.

******

She awoke hours later in a white padded cell. She was stripped of her clothes and wore only a white hospital gown. She shivered, hugging her knees close to her chest as she huddled in the corner of her bed. She was alone now, alone in the dark with nothing but the laughter and thoughts inside her head to keep her company.

Then, out of the insane laughter, something clicked, as though all the pieces of hatred and anger had finally come together. That night in Bedlam Mental Institute, she made herself a promise. One day, when she finally escaped this place, she would go back to Bishops Stortford. She would hunt down the people responsible for this and they would pay. She would finally have her revenge.

She threw back her head, laughing madly into the darkness.

Notes

Let me know what you think xxx

Has anyone seen Fake Your Death- I couldn't stop crying :')
Kinda made me realise how much I miss the band xxx