Kizzy fly by night.

Part 22

Chapter 22

'A dad's love', no explanation needed. He's going to take the rap for my murder, I'm off the hook. I place my head in my hands as images of myself as a little kid flow through my mind, my dad bringing home a beautiful doll with long red hair, leaving me a message in the tin, so I'd have to hunt first. How I'd loved it and loved him... then. 'My dad the killer', I shudder and open the door to find a lady officer standing by the sink looking ashen.

"Are you ok love?"

I nod, "I will be."

"We're going to need you and Mr Todd to come with us to the station to take a full statement, then you will have to be examined by a doctor."

We leave the bathroom and the officer squeezes my hand, "I will stay with you throughout the interview if you'd like me to."

She seems sweet, I feel like throwing my arms around her and crying and crying. I won't though.

"What about my dog?"

The officer smiles reassuringly patting my shoulder, "Your dog will be safe."

The front room resembles a busy train station. An ambulance has arrived along with a photographer and forensic men who are intent on spraying and dusting for evidence. They trundle noisily down to the basement to photograph Gale and what other horrors they can find.

I watch them go tearfully unable to calm my shakes.

One of the officers stands up. "Come on let's leave them to do their work... Can you walk ok?"

"I'm fine." For some reason that question irritates me, don't they know that Kizzy will never be down for long?

We all walk slowly out to the car trying to ignore the shocked faces' from onlookers. Word has spread fast and the press is swarming, cameras at the ready desperate to capture my misery.

We sit in the vehicle and I place my head on Todd's shoulder. Unfaithful tears run freely and at this moment I doubt that they'll ever stop.

"No worry," he says patting my hand, "We fix this, just you wait."

I look out of the window half expecting to see Dad running towards me with open arms but there's nothing apart from a sea of faces, all straining to get a better view. The car speeds off and I don't look back.

Epilogue.

I'm standing outside a school as Melissa taking a deep breath. After checking my face for the tenth time I smile.

'I can do this,' I think, 'I can really do this.'

I have to. I walk up the steps and look back at Todd. He waves and we both shout "See you later!" at the same time.

Who'd have thought it?

Laughing I turn away. This is a new start and for the first time ever I feel that just maybe I have a decent chance of a future, I owe it to Todd and more importantly I owe it to myself.

Todd has been granted full-time foster care after social services got involved. Many meetings later they decided that it would be futile to place me back into the care system. Todd is seen to have a loving stable family environment that is deemed to be beneficial to my mental health, and so far things are going better than anyone has dared to hope. I have a sister and a Dad who loves me and I have rules to abide by which are a completely new concept, but I'm not going to mess it up by being difficult.

I offer to give Todd my savings to help pay towards my keep however he insists that we go and open a bank account... what's that? Ha ha

"You will need it when you're older." He says.

Podge has a little friend to play with. A dog named Cheto and they both run rings around everyone and are spoiled rotten.

My shard of glass is gone, I don't need it anymore. Todd has made me see that I'm worth so much more and I can do anything that I set my mind to. He has an old trampoline in the garden which is a great stress reliever so I'm no longer a cutter, I'm a winner and life will be good, I have faith.

To be honest, having a therapist has helped. It wasn't my choice but social services insisted. The therapist is a really kind lady, she reminds me of a cuddly Grandma. Her advice is solid, down to Earth and she doesn't treat me like a kid. The only thing we don't agree on is she thinks I have a personality disorder, says my traumatic upbringing caused it. Who knows...anyway I'm open to a new label as long as it doesn't include the words, whore, slut, or prostitute. I'm not my Dad, I never will be, I'm just me and I'm determined to make this chance work. If I dare mess up Kizzy will kick my arse ha ha.

Dad will be going to trial soon, it will be weird seeing him but this time it will be different. In many ways, it will be like facing a stranger. He always was really... just because you've got the title of Dad it certainly doesn't make you one.

For the first time ever I feel happy being Melissa again but in my heart, I will always be Kizzy Fly by Night.

By Brigitte Dacosta