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by Seraphina Parts 1-5 Part 1 �Come on Charlotte. Tell us what happened. That�s all you have to do. We can have you put into witness protection if that�s what you�re worried but we need you to tell us what happened first. You�re our only character witness. You�re our only hope. Please, just tell us what you saw.� �I�� Charli started, having trouble finding the words, beads of sweat breaking out as the lights of the interview room beat down with an unbelievably intense heat for something so insignificant and small. That�s how Charli felt, insignificant and small. Anyone would think that this was an interrogation, not a statement. But then again, this wasn�t just any statement. This was a trip into the past. A trip that she would rather not take. The past stayed in the past and on occasions, came back to haunt you. But you did not by any means make a habit of dwelling in it. At least Charli didn�t. The past was a place filled with dark shadows, horrific memories but most of all, pain. Earth shattering pain, both emotional and physical. They thought it was so easy. Just tell them what they wanted to know and then everything would be ok. How wrong they were. �I�� �Yes? All you have to do is tell us and you�re free to go.� �I�� There was an increasing tension in the small room. She glanced over at the one way glass, knowing, but not seeing that he was there, watching her, trying to encourage her, whether by words or thoughts, she didn�t know, but he would be encouraging her. He�d always encouraged her, although, not in the beginning maybe. He�d treated her as more of a burden in the beginning but that was alright because the feeling was more than mutual. He�d been a chore to her really, something that she had to do but didn�t particularly want to. She stared intently at the glass, disregarding her own reflexion, silently searching for some reassurance from him. She wished he was in here with her, sitting next to her, holding her hand, giving her the strength that he knew she had but that she just couldn�t seem to muster. But they�d refused to allow it no matter how much they�d both pleaded. But she was of legal age, even though she looked younger than she was. She felt old though. She�d seen things most people wouldn�t in a whole entire life time, but at 18, she�d seen it all. �I�� �Come on Charli,� Paul whispered, fists and teeth clenched as he watched her struggling from the room on the other side of the glass. She was close to breaking point, he knew, could tell by the way she was trying to see him and the way, her hand kept travelling closer and closer to her face as she tried to physically block out the memories by covering her eyes and shutting herself off from the rest of the world. He was itching to just push past the officer standing by the door that led to the interview room, to just sit next to her. He was sure that was all that she needed to convince her to just tell them what she had told him only two days before hand. He couldn�t believe that she been holding out the information for the whole time they�d known each other. It must have nearly killed her. Well she�d come close to going insane. That�s what had forced her to tell him in the end. She just couldn�t live sanely, being the only one who knew. If he could take her place in that interrogation come interview, he would but they needed the eye witness, not the secondary source. Damn! Couldn�t they see that they were pushing her too far? She wouldn�t tell them, he was sure of that, but why couldn�t they see and just let her go for a while. Then they could try again later. She was going to lose it in a minute. If that happened, they could quite possibly kiss their precious information goodbye. Charli brought her hand up, this time covering her eyes completely, shaking her head. �Just tell us what we want to know and you can go, for God�s sake.� The detective was starting to lose his cool. They were all tired, they�d been in there for three hours now and she still hadn�t told them what they wanted to know. �I..� Images flew across the inside of her eyelids, sounds from the past rang through her ears. It was all too much. �I CAN�T!� she screamed, scrambling to her feet so abruptly that the chair she�d been sitting in flew back against the wall. She was in hysterics now, reliving the scene that had caused her so much grief in the past and was destined to keep doing so. She ran to the one way glass, pounding on it, screaming, fear painting a contorted image on her already troubled features. �Make it stop!!!� She slid down the wall to come to rest in a huddled, shaking form on the floor as she sobbed. �Make it stop!� Paul rushed to the door, the officer making to restrain him. �For God�s sake, just let me through!� he pleaded, looking at the plain clothes in charge, for help. The plain close sighed and nodded. �Let him through.� The door burst open, Paul looked around the room for a second before spotting Charli on the floor in front of the wall he�d just been stuck behind, watching her suffer by herself. He came to a skidding halt on his knees next to her and gathered in his arms. �Please, make it stop,� she pleaded, looking up at him with wide, tearful green eyes. �It�s ok Charli, it�s ok.� The detective who�d been conducting the interview cast an annoyed and unsympathetic look at the mess of a girl before him. �All she has to do is tell us what we want to know and she can go,� he repeated for the hundredth time that day, or so it seemed. �I can�t,� she sobbed. �I can�t do it Paul. Why can�t you just tell them. You know, I�ve told you. Why can�t they just listen to you? I can�t do it.� He smiled sadly at her, wiping away a stray tear and pushing her hair off her face. �Because it�s not as easy as that Charli, it never is. I would have thought that you of all people would know that. But it�s alright, you don�t have to do any more today, does she detective?� he glared up at the officers, both uniformed and plain clothes, that had come to be in the room, almost daring any of them to disagree with what he�d said. The plain clothes scowled at him but agreed anyway. �That�s right. You can have a break for the rest of the day and we�ll start again tomorrow.� Paul looked back down and the psychological mess that was clinging to him like he was some kind of life support. �Hear that Charli? That�s all for today. I�ll take you home and you can have a nice hot bath and a cup of tea and forget all this-� �For now,� the plain clothes cut in as a female officer stepped forward at his indication and helped Paul to get Charli off the floor. As they made their way out into the corridor, Paul supporting the still crying Charli, the detective grabbed hold of his elbow roughly and leaned in closely to whisper harshly in his ear. �You make sure she�s back here tomorrow McDermott or you life won�t be worth living. When one of ours is a fatality in a crime like the one your girl is helping us out with, we make sure we catch the culprit, no matter what it takes. You hear me? No matter what.� �Go fuck yourself detective. If you dare threaten her, I�ll have your hide. I don�t care who you are. She�ll be here tomorrow, just give her a break. She�s not yours to do what you want with. Good day to you sir.� Part 2 Charli hadn�t said a word since they had left the police station and arrived at Paul�s place. Even now, she stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking lost as Paul busied himself making her a cup of tea. �Here, drink this. It�ll make you feel better,� he said, handing her a steaming mug that had �Save oxygen�shut the hell up!� printed on the side of it. She followed him mechanically to the couch which was, unfortunately, already occupied by �someone�. Paul sighed. �Tiny, get off MY good and very expensive couch.� Tiny ignored him in his usual K-9 fashion. �Tiny, get off,� Charli said tiredly. The massive hound raised his head, looked at her the vacated the piece of furniture in question. Paul and Charli sat down. �I don�t know. I give that stupid mutt his own couch to lounge on out on the verandah yet he still insists on lying all over this one,� he complained. �Probably because the one you gave him, smells,� Charli said monotonously. �It�s a damn good couch,� he said indignantly. �It was my best friend for years,� he added with a sniff. �Whadever,� Charli said sadly sipping her tea before breaking into a fit of coughs. �What the hell did you put in this?� He looked at her, a little sheepishly. �Whisky.� Charli stood and went to the sink. �I only put in a little bit,� he said, trying to justify his actions as she poured the contents of the mug down the drain. Then, walking over to the liquor cabinet, she produced a bottle of Jamesons. �If you�re gonna do it, you do it right,� she said, taking a swig as she took her seat again. She hummed happily as the amber coloured liquid burnt a warm, comforting trail from her throat down to her stomach. Paul grabbed the bottle off her and replaced the screw top. �What d�ya do that for?� Charli asked angrily, making a grab for the bottle. She was still shaken up by the days events and knowing that she was going to have to go through it all again tomorrow wasn�t exactly helping either. If she could just drink herself into oblivion, then maybe, just maybe, the world wouldn�t seem so bad. "I told you a long time ago that I refuse to stand by and watch you get wasted,� he said firmly. �You do,� she accused. �It�s the main reason I�m here with you today.� �That�s different. You�re young, Charli...too young.� �Get fucked, I�m eighteen. Now give me the fucking bottle.� �Why Charli? Why are you so damn set on abusing yourself?� �It�s only a little whisky for Christ�s sake. Lighten up you old fool.� �You know very well what I mean,� Paul said softly. �It�s not just the alcohol�... �Sara, have you seen Charli?� �I think she went to the bathroom. Why?� Paul shrugged. �She just seemed a little...abnormal...earlier. A bit upset. I just wanted to see if she was ok, make sure I haven�t done something wrong again.� �Taking into account that you�ve got a penis, you probably have done something wrong but I�m sure she�s fine,� Sara informed him lightly as she scrubbed potatoes at the sink. �Ha fucking ha! I just wanted to make sure, that�s all,� he said a little sulkily. �Well for heavens sake go check on her then and stop whingeing about it to me,� came an exasperated reply. �Ok, no need to get narky you moody bitch,� he said, dodging a projectile potato as he headed for the bathroom where he proceeded to knock on the door. �Charli, �you ok? I haven�t done anything wrong have I? Charli?� He knocked a few more times and not receiving an answer, tried to open the door himself. It was locked. �Charli, open the door,� he said, worry clearly showing in his voice as he pounded on the wood in front of him. In a frantic shove, he managed to force the door open, breaking the lock in the process but that was the least of his worries. He stared down in horror at prostrate Charli�s form lying in the bath. With a belt around her upper arm, a syringe still imbedded in her vain and a spoon and lighter on the vanity, it was obvious what was going on. It didn�t need a genius to tell that she had OD�d and was on the brink of death if not there already. �SARA!� Paul screamed, rushing to the bath and trying to revive the small girl. �CALL THE AMBO�s...NOW!!� Although it seemed like and eternity, it had taken an impressive 5 minutes for the paramedics to get there. They�d shoved Paul out of the way and given Charli a quick dose of adrenalin which had revived her almost immediately. She refused to be taken to the hospital but agreed to stay with Paul and Sara for at least one night before returning to where ever it was she normally went. Paul had sat on the edge of the spare bed where she lay tiredly. �You don�t do that, ok?� he said sternly, forcing himself not to take her by the shoulders and just shake her. �You don�t abuse yourself like that. Why didn�t you come and talk to me, or even Sara. You nearly died today.� �So what?� Charli spat bitterly. �And don�t tell me what to do. You don�t know anything about me, anything!� �Then tell me,� he said frustratedly. �Who are you?� �I�m no one,� she said sadly. �I�m Charli, plain and simple.� Paul had to admit that things between them had got better after that even though she still refused to talk about who she was. She was still always withdrawn about her past but that didn�t stop her from being loyal, friendly and loving. Still, that was all so long ago and yet, he still didn�t know anything much about her...how she�d got into the whole mess that she was in. Now, he turned to her on the couch and took her hands in his. �Tell me who you are, Charli.� Charli pulled her hands out of his grasp and turned away. Paul sighed. �Why won�t you talk to me? For God�s sake, confide in me...I care about you and it hurts me to-� �Talk to you?� she cut him off in a disbelieving tone. �Confide in you? You�re such a fucking hypocrite! You ask me to talk to you, to tell you who I am, how I feel when not once, have you said her name, talked about her, shared your feelings with me. Not once in the two years since she died.� Four figures, dressed in the customary black, stood in front of the fresh grave. A marble Angel watched over Sara�s resting place, but no one knew who had had it put there. Charli, Tim and Richard wept openly, mourning the loss of their dear friend while Paul stood stoically and dry eyed, away from the three of them. Charli approached him and tried to give him comfort but he rejected it, shutting her out. And he continued to shut her out for a long time afterwards along with the grief he felt for the loss of his lover. He got to the point where he managed to see Sara as just another chapter in his life that didn�t need reviewing and in doing so, managed to push it all to the back of his mind. �Sara�s gone Paul,� Charli said, breaking him out of his thoughts. �And she won�t be coming back. Get over it. You haven�t so much as looked at another chick for two years. So don�t sit back and tell me to share my feelings. Maybe when you�ve learnt to live with that fact that she�s dead, and has been for a long time, I�ll talk to you. I don�t give anything away for free.� Paul looked at her, expressionless, before standing and walking away. Charli burst into tears as she heard the front open and then slam closed. Why had she been so harsh? Her sniping always got the better of her but normally, Paul dished out the same back at her. He�d done that right from the start... Part 3 ��I don�t believe this,� Paul said for the hundredth time. �I don�t fucking believe this. I didn�t do anything and here they are, ordering me to do community service for six fucking months. Six. Fucking. Months. Do you know how long that is?� �I�m guessing twenty-eight weeks,� Sara said smugly as they neared the local community centre. �Well aren�t you just the fucking smart arse bitch?� he spat, not happy at having the piss taken out of him as well as having to perform civic duties as punishment. �Don�t you dare start taking this out on me you pathetic garden gnome. You should have thought about this before you went out on the piss and got in a fight.� �Well it wasn�t me that glassed the fat bastard so why should I get the bloody rap for it?� �Don�t play innocent with me, Paul. You know very well that the part you played was far from a benign one. Just be thankful that you got off so damn lightly,� she said, stopping and pulling his coat around him a little more neatly than what his attempts had brought him to look like. The weather had been strangely cold for the Sydney area and they�d been forced to done heavy coats. Sara had even gone as far as to wear a pair of bright red gloves with matching scarf and beanie. Looking up at him, she saw the heavy scowl he wore on his face that was close to becoming permanent. �Cheer up, Paulie. Your face looks like a slapped arse.� If anything, his brow creased even further. Sara giggled at him and kissed him lightly on his cold nose. His face softened a little and he even managed to force a smile, a small one albeit, her cheerfulness having an almost osmosis effect on him, bleeding happy rays into his ratty self. He could be in the shittiest of moods and amazingly, it hardly ever brought Sara down. She just never allowed it. She gave a satisfied grin and put a gloved hand on both of his cheeks, pushing her hands together to give him fish lips. �Now you have a good time, painting walls, or cleaning toilets or whatever it is they�re going to make you do. I am going to go and get a few things from the shops and I�ll meet you back at home.� He rolled his eyes at her silly display of affection as she moved her hands back and forward on his face making him look like God knows what before removing her hands, pulling the front of her beanie down over her eyes and giving her a quick kiss. �Yeah, I�ll seeya later,� he said, pinching on the bum before walking off in the direction of the community centre. Entering the building, he couldn�t help but note how obvious it was that this was a government funded facility. It was all grey and drab, and most of the volunteers walking around the place could easily be placed into two categories; The geriatrics that had nothing better to do when it was the off season for lawn bowls or the RSL wasn�t open at that particular time, and the young, hug-a-tree greenies, wearing alternative clothing, their hair not having been attended to in well over a year, attempting to make their community a better place for their methadone addicted, unborn children to live in. Those that didn�t fit into either category were either church workers or paid. Walking up to �reception�, he was greeted by a perky, �pink� kind of girl, painting her nails a bright magenta colour whilst chewing on a wad of gum. She looked up at him and smiled, a fake, cheerleader type smile. �Can I, like, help you?� Paul groaned inwardly. �I�m, like, here for, like, community service, like, duty�like,� he said with mock perkiness. �Pink� looked at him as if he had two heads. �Are you, like, ok man?� she asked. �I�m, like fine. Like, why do you, like, ask?� he said through gritted teeth. �You�re just, like, speaking kinda, like, funnay,� she said, making jerky little head movements as she spoke. Paul dropped the act. �Look, would you just tell me where I have to report to and make it, like, quick.� �God,� �Pink said. �Thar�s, like, no reason to be, like, pushy ar anythang,� she said, glaring at him from under thickly mascara coated eyelashes and eyelids smothered in pink, before pointing to a group of adults and teenagers in front of a women, smartly dressed in a navy blue ensemble and holding a clip board. Failing, deliberately, to say thankyou, Paul quickly escaped the area of the Pink monster and approached the woman in the navy suit. She turned and gave him a stressed out kind of smile. �Mr McDermott?� she asked, sounding hopeful. Paul nodded and she sighed with relief. �I was beginning to think you were a no show,� she said, turning back to the others. �Ok folks, now that everyone�s here, we can get started. I�m Janine, so if you�ve got any questions, don�t hesitate to ask. Now, all you adults are here because you�ve enrolled in a big brother/big sister program. Now, you obviously know what this entails, or you wouldn�t be here so today, you�ll be assigned your little brother or little sister respectively and you are to go away and bond with each other. It is up to you how often you keep up correspondence with your designated sibling but we ask that you make the effort to spend at least 5 hours a week with them. The rest is your time.� She looked around and smiled at the adults, who returned the gesture with enthusiasm, the kids who were all between the ages of 12 and 16 were a little less receptive�along with Paul. This is not what he�d been expecting. He did not want to be doing this. His thoughts were interrupted by navy woman again. �Ok folk, lets get started then shall we?� She then proceeded to start pairing big brothers and sisters off with younger ones but Paul wasn�t listening. He was busy, desperately trying to wish himself into another situation, praying that some angel would come down form heaven, hand him a toothbrush and a bucket and point him in the direction of some really Goddamn awful public bogs. By the time they were down to the last 3 adults, Paul was very nearly tempted to march straight back into the magistrate�s court and beg to serve some time in jail. It had to be better than this. Looking over at the group of 4 teens left, he nearly died when he saw one of them wearing a Doug�s t-shirt over a black skivvy. Great, all he needed was a fucking wild fan who most probably was hiding track marks under her sleaves, to jump him right there and then. Thank God they only made sa |
