Hi, I thought I should share some of my art on here, which I like to call ugly art! Basically, I draw with a pen and just draw whatever comes to mind. It's often nude and violent, so fair warning for that!! I'm thinking of using it for a future piece, but I don't want to get too committed to the idea cause I have so many bouncing around! I'd love to get inspired or inspire others!!!
Hi! I need advice on where to take my story next! I have two parts finished, and I mainly need feedback on dialogue, tone, pacing, and where to take the story next! (I will fix grammar issues when I'm grammatically proofreading it but if anything sounds clunky, please lmk!) I'm open to all critiques, but please keep in mind it is supposed to be a semi-comedic piece! There are warnings in the document before reading. Please heed the warnings!
WARNING THE FOLLOWING STORY CONTAINS SCENES OF: SA, religious trauma, and implied CSA. Reader’s discretion is advised!
CONFIDENTIAL INVESTIGATION LOG - TEXAS STATE EMERGENCY RESPONSE UNIT
DOCUMENT STATUS: ACTIVE CASE FILE – SUBJECT TO REVISION
DATE OF REPORT: [REDACTED]
CASE CODE: TX-37-INF-MALDONADO
LEVEL OF CLEARANCE: RESTRICTED – CLASS C+
NOTICE: The following report contains preliminary findings regarding a series of anomalous events recorded in the residence of the [REDACTED] family, located on the rural outskirts of [REDACTED], Texas. Due to the sensitive nature of the case, identifying details have been omitted. The footage has been partially recovered from the damaged internal memory of a consumer-grade camera. Names and locations have been altered for public safety.
FILE 001-A: “RECOVERED MALDONADO FOOTAGE.”
DESCRIPTION:
The camera breathes to life the scene, being set. A young female (presumed to be 10–12 years old) places her camera unsteadily on her desk, sitting in the frame on her bed. There are visible posters of her interests; the room appears to be well-lived in. She takes a deep breath before beginning to speak to herself, looking in the viewfinder for reassurance.
"This is my first video, so sorry I'm a little nervous..."
Her eyes break contact with the lens as she takes another labored breath.
"Sorry, my mom just got home. She's been having me stay home lately ever since... Well, you should know."
She smiles nervously, putting one leg in front of the other. Her face seemed to read of unease before brushing off the tense moment. She begins to talk about some of her favorite movies. She cradles a plush toy in her hands, stroking it repetitively in deep concentration as if trying to escape some unknown force. A woman calls from beyond the camera's view as the footage comes to a sudden halt.
FILE 001-B: “RECORDING #2”
DESCRIPTION:
The camera blinks to life as it is set at a higher vantage point, now providing a clear view of the room. A small twin-sized bed sits comfortably, the nightstand hugging it, as everything seems to squeeze into the frame, almost as if trying to get into the shot. The young girl stands proudly, playing a pop track while dancing.
She now dons a surgical mask, used in later years to prevent disease from spreading quickly. She is seen to become visibly exhausted, but never removes the mask. She pauses, flicking off the track and going to retrieve her camera as a woman's voice calls again. Instead of turning off the camera, she immediately rushes over.
The room grows still; the once energetic scene is suddenly muted. Ambient noise shifts: a low, persistent coughing filter in—wet and ragged—periodically breaking the silence. Audio distortion follows. The camera continues recording for several minutes before cutting to black, likely from battery failure.
FILES 002–039: “INCONSEQUENTIAL MATERIAL”
NOTES:
The subject continues recording monotonously, showing various attempts at entertainment, from playing with dolls to singing and dancing. Visual deterioration is evident, as the young girl is seen to become visibly emaciated as the videos continue. Behavior becomes increasingly withdrawn. No signs of contact with outside individuals. No confirmation of utilities being used or functional. The timeline suggests isolation exceeding three weeks.
FILE 040-Z: “RECORDING #40”
DESCRIPTION:
The camera opens in a living room, the girl setting it down on a table as she sits back on the couch. Shuffling behind her can be heard as she continues to speak through tears.
"My mom hasn't been getting better. The doctors can't... She's... dangerous to them..."
She is seen wiping tears from her face as the shuffling stops. The girl jolts, swinging her head back to face the kitchen.
"[REDACTED NAME], don't call me that!"
A shrill voice can be heard—female, hoarse, and warped—yelling at the young girl, who has now been confirmed as [REDACTED]. She is seen apologizing profusely as a figure rises from behind her. Movements are erratic, and the skin is a deep red. The ailment of the woman was unknown.
The camera is left; the noises filling the screen allowed for only imagination to fill them. Shadows seemed to dance on the hallways and walls, moving unnaturally fast. Investigation proved that this is what we now know as the chase between the mother and daughter. We have confirmed from the rest of the footage that [REDACTED] was not affected by what her mother had.
The final seconds of footage include:
PART 1
The debrief came to a halt. Many officers seemed unnerved, and I was not an exception. My life was hardened by years on the field, but nothing could have prepared me for this outbreak. Even though crime was always prevalent here in the big city, it only seemed to increase as reports of monstrous, almost demon-like creatures were replacing family members. We wrote it off as just another mass religious delirium until we had proof, and admittedly, the proof was not solid, but it was a start to documented footage of whatever this outbreak may look like. I’m not saying we were all ‘round good, but the parts that were shining. I’m only writing this down for documentation anyway. Who knows, maybe when they find a bullet in my head, they’ll read this. I’m talking crazy at this rate; most people want our heads. The more our station denies these monsters, the angrier the public gets. This meeting was different, though; it was the day that marked the decision for our public statement. I’ll try to write down the meeting and subsequent events: The deputy and assistant chief stand as a group.Police officers (me included) are sitting. It was unusual to see them here, and especially with more experienced policemen in attendance. “Gentlemen…and lady.” Deputy Garza said, " The joke grows old the longer I work here. “We have an issue to address with the public. This ‘demon’ case is really gettin’ us in hot water. I gathered all highly ranked personnel here because this may be our breaking case. If we don’t prove that this has nothing to do with monsters, we may have a riot fast approaching.” While a little dramatic, we all could agree that there was unrest amongst the townsfolk. My mom had called a few times to make sure I was who I said I was. I didn’t want to upset her if I tried testing her too. “But, sir, what do we even say? I mean- if this evidence gets released….” “Then it won’t!” the deputy snapped, interrupting one of the detectives there. Detective Phillips was somehow always getting yelled at. “Morgan, Phillips! I need you two on this shit immediately! Do whatever you need to do, get this monster bullcrap out of my station.” The rest of the meeting was relatively the same, but with the deputy on edge, it soon devolved into meaningless bickering. Phillips and I exited the meeting silently, recouping in my section of the station. “Oh, man, this is a shit show! How the hell are we gonna do this?!” His voice was shaky and shrill. How could a detective be this bitchy? I pinched the skin between my brows, running over the details we had so far. “Look, we’ll start by going over to the crime scene. Homicide probably already picked up some evidence that’s getting sorted out at the lab. Maybe we can talk to the girl, too.” I said, trying not to escalate his feelings anymore. Phillips just nodded meekly, turning heel and walking towards homicide. I would’ve rather worked alone, but at this rate, I practically was. I sighed and got the details I needed for the house and the girl. I didn’t wait for Phillips, hopping into my own cruiser. As I drove to the place, I continued to try to dissect the information I had. I waited to see the grizzly scene, knowing the crime would help answer these questions I had bouncing around in my head. I got out and took a look around the scene. Everything seemed normal despite all the officers and police tape. It was like it was frozen in time. “The body has already been moved for examination. The crime scene is relatively clean.” A homicide officer said, making way for me to enter the house. That’s what they always said about these cases, but I knew better by now. I walked into the house, with inspirational quotes on the wall and seashells as centerpieces. The whole house smelled like a hotel towel. As I walked through, I started to see a small trail of blood out of the kitchen. Odd. When we heard the tape, it sounded like maybe the daughter got the upper hand. This showed there may have been more of a struggle than we didn’t see. It still didn’t make sense. How could a monster… or mother by that be taken down by a 10-year-old?. I smiled morbidly at the visual but quickly got back to work. The living room looked like it was the room where the murder took place. Each wall was caked in dark red; it was still dripping as if it were fresh. It was darker than normal blood I had seen and had a sweetness to it that normal death only had a slight hint of. It was almost like a birthday cake. I wasn’t interested in the crime itself, though. I wanted to know how this happened. I turned my attention towards the mother's room, noting the family portrait right outside her door. Strange. I noted down two other children who seemed not to be present. Maybe they were just being looked after by their dad, but I couldn’t be sure yet. I opened her door, and a sickly bleach smell emanated from the room. I noted the decorations were slightly different. I guess the mom was a hunter; animal skins and heads lined the wall. The top of her bed was a mouse head. On the bottom was written something in Latin, but I wasn’t too versed in it. Okay… Not the weirdest thing, but certainly close to it. I looked around more, finding a book open on the bed. This was where the bleach scent was coming from. It was doused in it, but it was never lit. It seemed like a manifesto at first glance, but the writing was big, bold, and sporadic lettering of a language that looked unrecognizable. Symbols in between numbers and hand-drawn emotes. Why hadn’t the team taken this? I reached out towards it, my clothes suddenly started to singe, and my skin felt hot. I immediately retracted my hand. That’s why. I didn’t even bother questioning why they hadn’t warned me; dickheads like them are a dime a dozen. I copied down a bit of the writing in my notepad and moved on. I made my way towards her bathroom. Sweet, it came with a jacuzzi! I peered in and around; it looked relatively normal. I turned from the hot tub to the mirror. Suddenly, bodies appeared in the tub, and blood started pooling out of it. I jumped and turned back, but the jacuzzi was empty. Despite my antics, this was putting me on edge. Something was deeply wrong with this woman. Although I had left the church a long time ago, I had nothing more to describe as a possession of either the mom or the house, or both. Garza would never take that, though. What was I missing? I turned towards her dresser. One of her drawers was marked with a cross in Sharpie. I had written it off as her daughter being a child, but the haunted bathroom now piqued my interest in this. I opened it and was disappointed to find a bunch of undergarments. I sighed, closing my eyes before reaching into the drawer and digging into it. My mom always used to hide stuff in her panty drawer. It was the only place I didn’t want to go digging in. I was about to give up when I felt a smooth plastic feeling. I gripped onto the edge of it and found a folder. It didn’t seem too interesting, brochures and advertisements for a fellowship meeting. Weird, my church was on the list. I took some pictures of each flyer before reaching the last one. It was different. Although the others were Christians (a few different denominations), this one was a Mormon church that had just opened up. I took note of it and left her room. “Hey, make sure to get someone on the haunted book, guys.” I said to some of the officers who were in the house, taking samples of fingerprints and blood. “Also, check under that bed. There might be monsters.” I shot a smile at the head of the homicide team. I made my way out of the crime scene, getting a few new things for our investigation. I sat in my car, looking up at the Mormon church. Weird. They were brand new and had a full crowd every service. They seemed relatively normal, having a fellowship meeting in a few days. I also translated the weird language, searching for it on the Mormon website to no avail. It wasn’t anything to note, just talking about a farmer and his fruit? The way it was described seemed very biblical, but I needed to focus my attention on this church; maybe it could be a lead for the book. I could feel that something was going on that Deputy Garza would not be happy about. I tried to shake off the supernatural feeling. It seemed as if even thinking about Garza summoned him, hearing him over the radio, addressing me. “Morgan, if you’re all done at the house, go ahead and pay that poor girl a visit.” I guess years of us working together made me predictable to him. I wrote down notes about the book, slipping the brochure into the file. I knew there was something more to this than just an abusive mother. I tried to focus on the girl; the thought of visiting a young girl in the hospital would make anyone’s heart ache. I drove the distance, my brain filling the silence with thoughts. It was abnormal to leave a scene with a murky feeling, but the bathroom was getting to me. Whenever I’m on scene, I try to remain as calm as I can, but now I can fully let my mind wander into those dark corners. Although most of the bodies in there were just bodies, there was one just sitting up in the tub and looking at me. She just sat there, scrubbing herself with a faraway look in her eyes. It was the kind of look my mother had when I left the church for the last time. I tried not to think about it. Approaching the hospital doors, I started to coach myself on how to speak to the girl. I didn’t know much about her except that her mom was dead, and she hated school. Ride on, I guess. While I made my way inside the hospital, I finally heard back from Phillips. That’s right, he was my assigned partner. “Hey- uh- you kinda left me here at the station… But uh- I just wanted to let you know that I’m at the hospital and- oh! I see you!” I turned my head up, seeing him haul ass to get to me. “Hey! I’m waiting for them to let me see the victim. They said she’ll be ready in a bit. Did you find anything at the house?” I shoved my hands in my pockets, sitting down in the waiting room with him. “The mom might be an evil Mormon.” I laughed, looking at my unamused partner. I explained the details: the color of blood, smells, the evil bathtub, and the magic book. “Dude, Garza is gonna be pissed! Did you send specially suited people for the book?” “I told Hancock about it. I’m sure he’ll get on it eventually.” I showed him my singed sleeve. He hesitantly reached for my arm, and I slowly brought it close to my chest. He extended his reach to my slight discomfort. “We really…should go to the crime scene together next time.” I ripped my hand away and laughed it off, talking for a bit. He didn’t find out anything more besides that they studied the footage more and concluded that the struggle was longer than the video. The daughter had injuries that didn’t seem to match the brutal audio. “What does that even mean?” Thinking about this was making my head hurt. We couldn’t say it was a monster, but we both knew it was seeming that way more and more. “Detective Phillips, she’s ready to be seen.” We made our way to the room, seeing her hooked up to a few machines to keep her stable. “Internal bleeding was found, but it’s nothing that we can’t help. She’s a little shaken, though, so please be gentle with her,” the nurse watching over her said, exiting the room. I made my way to her, the blue icy gaze meeting mine. Her face was a little chubby, and I could tell the machines made her a little uncomfortable. “Hello, I’m Morgan, and this is my buddy Hubert.” “No, no, no! That’s not my name!” I smiled slyly, which made the little girl laugh before coughing. “Hi, Officer Morgan. Are you here about my mom?” Wow, that was fast. The atmosphere changed as I nodded softly. “We just want to ask you some small questions, okay?” The interview went as well as it could when handling a traumatized child. We learned her real name was Seila and that she and her mom had moved here after her parents split up. She said that her other siblings had lived with them, but they went away to camp, and she hasn’t seen them in a few months. Huh. She rambled about school and other miscellaneous things. I couldn’t help but smile at her just being herself. Despite everything. Before we wrapped up the session, she grabbed my sleeve. “Aren’t you gonna ask me about the accident?” I choked up slightly, seeing that look in her eyes that told me she was reliving it. “We don’t need to discuss that right now, sweetheart. You rest up.” Phillips said in a soft voice, starting to finish off his notes. “I didn’t ask you, melvin.” A soft snort exited me, the old insult bringing back memories of the team ragging on him the same way. “Even though you’re right about him, he’s right. We don’t want to upset you, okay? You’ve given us plenty to work with.” Her grip on my sleeve tightened. “Please don’t leave just yet. I can’t be alone here!” Her eyes got big and glassy. I felt a pang in my stomach that rose to my heart. “We have to do our job, okay? I’ll make sure to come and visit some other time.” With that, I left with Phillips. We could hear her wailing while I gave the front desk my personal number for her. “So we got nothing that proves these are not monsters.” Phillips sighed, gripping his hair while reading over his notes. “Look, man, let’s just review everything back at the station and see what the labs will bring us. They’ll have to have something, especially with the blood.” I reassured him while he seemed to be following me to where I parked. “Sorry to uh- kinda impose on you but- I kinda took the bus here…” That’s right. Phillips' car got towed on scene once, and it’s become some sort of joke that he can’t get it back. I sighed and opened the door for him. “Thanks, you’re the coolest at the station.” I cringed slightly while I got into the driver’s side. “Just trying to do my job, man.” We rode to the station in relative silence, only being interrupted by the odd question. He seemed to be getting awfully comfortable with me. I didn’t want to seem like a bitch until I had to be one, though. Something deep down in me felt pity for Phillips. He was despised by many and seen as more of a charity case if anything. I glanced towards him during a red light; he was gnawing on his finger while going over his notes. “You can go now.” The green light bathed the car as the sun had disappeared. I pressed on the gas, growing more curious about him the closer we got to the station. “So, Phillips, where are you from?” He gave a long-winded explanation. I don’t particularly want to write down here. The highlights were that he was from here with both of his parents until his mom left. I nodded slowly while listening to him explain tearfully what had happened. The emotion was immediately shattered when he went into harrowing detail about his time at school. He explained in excruciating detail how he was always on top of everything, and now he was nothing to the world. “It chewed me up in exams and associate's degrees and spat me out without a care for who I used to be. I kinda regret caring so much about high school.” Those words are ones to document. His voice was filled with a brittle bitterness. I didn’t want to tell him he peaked in high school. As the car became tense with silence, he brought up a question that caught me off guard. “Why do you ask anyway? You never really seemed interested in knowing me.” I began to slightly question it myself. “Well, I want to get to know my partner, I guess.” I parked my car in front of the station, getting out with Phillips. Before I could step into the office, Deputy Garza was already storming outside. “Phillips! Morgan! In my office!” My partner and I looked at each other; his panicked, almost maniac eyes were slightly soothed by my indifferent gaze. “What the fuck were you two thinking? This crazy ass girl just completely went catatonic after she saw you two. Not to mention, another monster sighting has been reported, and it’s blowing up our station! Tell me you have a goddamn update!” Phillips' whole body was shaking as he passed the notes on to the deputy. “I built rapport with the girl, so I could revisit her tomorrow and get more information out of her. We also have a lead on a church that the mother went to.” “Haunted bathtubs?! Mormon churches?! I asked for answers, not a Scooby-Doo book! Morgan, go to the girl tomorrow. Phillips, you’re going to see what you can get from the lab. I want to have a solid lead by tomorrow. This is not a case to be dicking around with!” He slammed his door closed, almost crushing my partner’s toes in the process. He yelped, rubbing sweat from his brow in vain to stop his total freakout. “Great! Now what are we going to do… More people are dying and- and-” His chest was heaving. I tried to grab his attention, keeping eye contact with him. “Dude, stay with me. Breathe slowly.” I stammered, making a rash decision. While I hid behind grit, it was hard not to be empathetic towards people in this line of work. “Look, I’ll take you home, don’t worry about a ride or anything.” He stared at me and then nodded slowly. I had gotten to know him a bit better, and I just knew this dude was a mess. I know it was out of pity, but what else was there to do? I was in the middle of getting him out of the station when someone from homicide walked up to me, looking a bit nervous to deliver the test results. “Uh- we couldn’t exactly place the blood type. I know the deputy doesn’t want us to discuss the whole ‘sci-fi’ side of it all, but it’s looking more and more like a possible explanation.” She leaned in closely before handing me the manila folder. I knew for all our sakes that I had to talk to that girl tomorrow. She was our only key to figuring out what happened to her mom. I walked out of the police station, Phillips on my right shoulder. He was coming back down from his attack, thanking me for my help and telling me the direction to his house. “Thanks again.” He said meekly as we neared his house. It was rather secluded; the further we drove, the more the asphalt deteriorated into dirt. We neared his house, a growing dread lingering on me. That’s when it happened. He rubbed his hand on mine, smiling with pretense. It was like I was seeing past a front. At that moment, I didn’t do anything but freeze. He lunged forward and smashed his face into mine. I choked on his spit, trying to fight him off. I had years of training. There was no reaching for my center console; I was stuck and forced to endure it. I thought of the girl in the hospital. I thought of my case, anything to take my mind off the groping of my coworker. I was a police officer, but here I was just a scared little girl with a monster hiding as a trusted person. Maybe the signs were there, I wasn’t sure. There was a long silence after he was done. I didn’t know what to say or even be grateful; it was just touching. He stared at me, still as I rubbed his spit off my lips. He just smiled and got out of the car. I heard the passenger door shut, but my mind was somewhere else. Did I give off the wrong idea? What the hell was that? Why would he… I took a deep breath, contemplating telling the station. I needed to stay on this case. Maybe if I just played it off, it would be fine. I teared up, pushing the feelings down deep into me. I couldn’t bear to think about shit like that. Not after everything. I thought about the church, I thought about home. That’s all I had left to write about today.
END OF PART 1
PART 2 (semi still proof reading)
The next morning, I woke up in a cold sweat with the thoughts of yesterday plaguing me. Waking up with a deer head staring you down does not help. I felt like shit. Looking up at the ceiling, I had lain in a frayed panic the night before, trying to see if the world would pause for a second. There was no use. Opening my phone, it was already bombarded with messages from Phillips begging me to disregard yesterday's calls, calls from the deputy telling me to go to the hospital, and the actual hospital contacting me. Yesterday. My body shivered at the thought of it, pushing the thoughts back from the forefront of my mind. I started sorting through my messages, beginning with returning the call from the deputy as I got dressed for the day. Looking at my baggy shirt, which I had thrown on the night before, filled me with overwhelming dread. I slowly peeled it off my skin, not being able to stomach the sight of it coming off. As quickly as the safety wrapped me in an ambiguous shape, it left me with my body. Staring at my own reflection, I turned towards the side, scanning myself methodically. My brain is desperately trying to reason the night before. It was interrupted by the deputy picking. During his tangent about me not picking up, I was deep in thought until he mentioned Seila. “That punk is awake and asking for you back,” he said with a grumble, giving a long, exaggerated sigh before continuing. “I know it’s inconvenient since you have so much going on, but she’s been bothering the hospital staff ever since she woke up.” Despite his sarcastic tone, the thought of seeing the young girl lifted my spirits. I put on my clothes quickly to avoid further assessment of myself. Looking at my uniform, my heart began to beat out of my chest. A police officer. “Hey, dep.?” I bit my lip in a pensive tone. He responded with a short hum. I thought about my life, everything I had fought for to be my own person. “Spit it out, detective, we ain’t got all day.” I looked at the police officer in the mirror. “...Just glad to be working on this case, let’s catch ourselves a demon.” I hung up before he could become irate. With a smile, I opened my door and began my day. The girl, I saw her in my mind with a smile on her face. The thought of letting her see me as this motivated me. My own problems weren't my priority now; thinking about the case was a necessity for me. I got into my car, looking out towards the road. Evil Mormon mom, weird book, spooky bathtub. Today was the day I had to get information. The rest of the ride was a blur; it’s weird how you can drive and not remember anything. The hospital was cold and had a strange feeling clinging to it. As I waited for her, I looked around for any sign of my partner. Thankfully, his ass was nowhere to be found. I looked back at my notes from the previous day. While I waited, I drew pictures of the book on fire. “Detective Morgan?” A nurse came up to me, snapping me out of my focus. “She’s ready to be seen but seems a bit more hesitant to talk today. She seems to have just processed the things she’s been through.” With that, I was sent into the room. The interrogation was more about school, and I noted she was a bit more cagey. I took notes periodically, but she kept leaning over to look behind me. “Where’s the guy?” She asked while peering over me. “Oh well…” “Did he finally do it?” The air changed; it got slightly colder. “Do what, Seila?” She didn’t answer my question, looking off into the distance. The same vacant look that reminded me of my mother. My church. Why was I remembering all of it at once? My hands shook while I looked down at my notes for anything to explain this. Her behavior seemed normal I- “He always tended to favor the girls.” My chain of thought was broken. Was I imagining this? The voice was coming out of her as if it were clawing its way through her. “Ms. Morgan?” As if it were just a dream, the tension seemed to melt, and her voice returned to normal. “Is something wrong?” My body was still tensed, and I had a sinking feeling she was only going to get worse. I immediately began to question her. My urgency seemed to frighten her a bit, but there was no point in being coy now. “What was the last church your mom was a part of?” She turned her nose up at the idea of church. “The one she dragged us to the most was the uh uh ‘Lat-ter’?…” “Latter-Day Saints?” Seila nodded before rolling her eyes and adjusting herself in the hospital bed. “All they did was sing over people, and then we’d eat. It was so boring.” Her description confused me. There would typically be more room for doubt, but seeing how much of a fanatic her mother was, it only confirmed my suspicions. I scribbled down some notes, biting the end of my pen inquisitively. Something tied both Seila and her mom to this church. The church. Something told me I didn’t have enough time. “You’re leaving already?” She called out, but I had no time to respond to her. It hurt my heart to leave despite her weird Green Goblin moment, but I had to get to the church. This was the only lead I had. Quickly updating the deputy of my findings, but instead of getting the usual okay, he called me. “Morgan, you step an inch into that church, and you are thrown off that case.” My blood ran cold. “You need to babysit this kid. Philips is finding us a way to bullshit out of this bullshit! You only have clearance to watch that girl, do it!” A part of me knew this was going to end stupidly. Ridiculously stupid. I looked back at the door, and walking back to the room felt like admitting defeat. I opened the door, and Seila was sitting up, waiting for me. “Ms. Morgan?” Looking at her made me want to do better by her. “I… I have to take care of you so we can get to the bottom of this.” There was a plan forming in my head; I just had to make sure not to fuck it up. She was released to me with temporary custody granted to me. “So…are you like- my mom now?” Seila asked, hopping into the backseat. “No, but I can be like…a cool…” I tried not to say adult friend. “Detective! Who can let you sit in the front seat!” She grinned, changing seats. As we drove back to my house, conversations were scattered. The radio emitted bluegrass tunes to ease the awkwardness…and also because my radio was broken. The voice she had emitted echoed in my head. “Am I going to see your house?” She said excitedly, shifting in her seat. “Yes, but there we need to have a serious talk.” The car filled with silence again. From time to time, there was a small sniffle. It was hard to notice over the music, but it was broken by a small, shaky voice. “My…my mom she’s dead, right?” I didn’t answer her, focusing on the road and trying not to falter. Silence dragged on, only making her crying intensify. No matter how hard I tried not to get choked up, the thought of having to do this questioning ate me up inside. “Well-” There was no way out of this. I looked over the familiar roads, knowing we had a while to go. It felt like the car was slowly being crushed by a hydraulic press as silence permeated while we both waited for the ride to be over. My parents did not prepare me for this. “When I was your age, my mother was…” Here we go. I swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel as if it was happening to me all over again. “She didn’t- see me.” Her face began to emerge in my mind, seeing her smile fade in and out of memory. My knuckles whitened. I wasn’t sure where I was going with this. “Seila, sometimes in life you’re going to get hurt by people you love.” Seila’s crying turned into wailing. I tried not to shut my eyes as I focused on the road ahead of me. Trying to salvage the conversation, I brought it back to her mother. “Your mother loved you! She did, she cared. She was sick, I mean- that wasn’t her!” “How would you know?” Seila screamed; the volume of her scream in the cramped car made my head hurt. “Before the monster, didn’t she care?” There was a small pause before she winced out an answer. “All she cared about was the church.” My heart raced as we neared my house, her voice softly repeating. “She- she never saw me.” As I parked, I turned towards her. My thoughts raced, and I put a hand on her shoulder. “I know what she did, hurt you.” I choked up a bit, the corners of my mouth twitching upwards. “But now you have a chance to be better.” She took a deep breath, looking up at me with slightly more reassurance. “Is that why you became a cop?” I smiled solemnly, unlocking the doors for her to exit. I watched as her eyes immediately lit up at the sight of my humble wooden home. For the first time in a long time, tears streamed down my face. I quickly wiped them away, getting out of my car to hear the exclamations of Seila, completely taken by the outdoors. “Wow! Your house looks cool!” Seila looked at the front porch, leaning on a support beam. I took in the relief of ending the previous conversation, looking at her as she opened the front door curiously. Western decor that my mom had given me was scattered across my house. She never knew what I liked, but it was funny to keep the deer skulls. The girl walked around, stroking the animal hide draped over my couch. “So are you all…cowboys?” She turned to me with an eager smile. Finally, a question I can answer. We talked for a bit, but I knew the questioning had to begin soon. “So, about your mom.” I passed her a cup of water, analyzing her behavior. “It’s okay, I know now that she’s gone…That day is a blur.” Hastily, I pulled out my notepad, jotting down her subtle movements. She seemed oddly composed when talking about the traumatic event. “I kinda knew it was coming in a way, or at least that she was sick.” “What were her physical signs?” She held onto a cheap taxidermied duck for comfort. “Her…eyes were the first to…” Her tears welled up, turning away from me. I had to push through my feelings. “What did she look like?” I prompted her, but before she gained her composure, I pressed too hard. “I need to know these things so I can help-” She threw the duck at me and ran into a random room. “Seila! That’s my utility closet.” I walked towards her, evaluating the situation carefully. “We don’t have to talk about her, okay? Maybe we can color or…or whatever you like to do!” She emerged with a broom pointed at me. “Get away from me!” Shit. A part of me knew that this was going to happen. “Look, we need to discuss this case first.” She wasn’t buying it. Her stubbornness struck me. I knew what she needed to hear. “I know you’re scared and feel powerless…But sometimes the bravest thing you can do is-” The fucker knocked the wind out of me with the broom. “No, you don’t get to tell me what I want!” Her eyes were crazed, backing herself into the end of my hallway. She slid down the wall, covering herself with her arms. While I was recovering from the critical hit, I could hear her sobbing. “I know-” She cut me off with a scream of frustration. “Okay, okay! I don’t know!” I got up, rubbing my stomach as I walked carefully towards her. Seila looked up at me, uncovering her head with her arms. “I don’t know, but let me help you figure out who killed her.” “She killed herself!” She screamed, covering herself again. The revelation was a slap in the face. “Leave me alone!” She continued to scream and thrash. Looking down at her, I wasn’t sure what to do. I called her name to no avail. My feet halted in my spot a few feet away, and I sat there. My eyes closed, and my lips shook as I recited a hymn my mother used to sing to me. The endless nights of me screaming echoed in my mind, the nights I spent terrified of the shadows cast on my walls after that night. It took a little bit of second-guessing if it would work, but eventually, she was calm again. I was running out of hymns anyway. “She…Didn’t want me to see- I think?” Her speech was scattered as she caught her breath. “I’m not sure it was like she was fighting herself…” Her hands covered her face, but I could make out most of her mumbling. My arm hair began to rise at the image of it. I had dealt with many cases, but possessions were completely different. “She told me to get rid of the pain…I tried to, I shouldn’t have.” My blood boiled at the thought of all of this being swept under the rug. I stood up, holding my hand out for her to take. “I’m going to bust whoever's ass is in charge of this.” She laughed at me,e cursing, her laughter bringing me relief from the heavy conversation. She did great considering her circumstances. Despite the tone we left off on, she didn’t say anything else the rest of the night. That was the last she spoke of it for the rest of her time in my house. I wrote down everything in my notepad, but knew I was never going to give it to the deputy. This case was mine now, and I had to get to work.
END OF PART 2
