This chapter gives insight to Deandra's inner demons; memories of a past experience that still haunt her.
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Name: Grayham Mark Gordon
Place of Birth: Australia
Place of Death: 26 Herrald St, Teller Park, Qld, Australia. Detective Deandra's office
Witness': Deandra, unknown man (murderer), possibly Rose
Reason for death: knowing too much information and trying to share it.
Other information: murderer found with a plastic, toy, gun.
The list of information in Grayham's new file went on and on, three pages worth of fine print and mini dot points. It was a file held under secure guard. It was a file of an unsung hero who gave his life to help a case. It was a file of a loving partner. It was a file of a man who had tried to take justice into his own hands.
It was a file that I did not want to see.
"Mummy, what are you looking at?" I turned around to see Chloe staring up at me with big, chocolate brown, inquisitive eyes, her brown hair fell down to just past her shoulders in her own cute attempt at a braid. Her small, pink lips were pulled together in a tight frown.
"I'm looking at a file for work" I explained to her, "It's a very important file" Chloe nodded.
"What is it about, mummy?"
"A very brave man" I answered her, "He risked his own life to help me with a case, he risked his own life to save future victims" I continued. No one had said it out loud since his death, we were all in too much shock. But now I felt like I needed to say it, to protect his honour...and his memory. Chloe nodded again.
"Did he die?" I looked at her large brown eyes again. They were full of so much more maturity then the eyes of a four year old should be able to hold, but that maturity was definitely there; it had always been there, and though she may have nightmares about things as petty as Justing Bieber and One Direction laughing at her, she was able to take on board, understand and cope with, many things that most adults wouldn't be able to.
And that is why I shook my head.
"No, he didn't die, he, he left. His body is now uninhabited, and my decay, but his memory and his spirit will forever live on, whether in this world or the next I don't know, but it will."
Chloe nodded understandingly. She inhabited that skill from me, being able to take in and comprehend things most people would not be able to. Some people may say I was wrong for letting a four year old in on so much stuff, but she's my daughter, and I know her, and I know she can cope.
"Mummy, who is daddy?" The question pulled me up short. Chloe had never inquired about her father before, never mentioned it. I had always believed that she'd just never really noticed. I had always hoped that she'd never ask.
Now I feel like an idiot.
Of course she was going to ask sooner or later, she is too smart not too, and anyway, eventually she'd be going to kindy and then school and then uni and then she'd have her own family! Of course she was going to one day realise that she didn't have a male father figure to look up to. I cursed myself for putting this off so long.
"Um, Chloe, I, er, I" I sighed, "I don't know honey" Her little eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"What do you mean mummy? Do I have a daddy?" she asked. Tears started to well in my eyes as I tried my hardest to forget the memories and focus on the beautiful angel in front of me.
"No. No honey, you don't" I answered her. She frowned as she saw the tears resididing in my eyes.
"Mummy, what's wrong?" she asked, putting a tiny little hand on my cheek. I put my own hand over it, it was so tiny compared to mine. I looked at her facial frame, round, the facial frame that she didn't get from me, the facial frame she got from him.
That was it for me, the tears started to fall down freely now, fast. I had to try and force my eyes to stay open as I knew what images would come if I closed them.
"Mummy? Mummy? What is wrong? Mummy?" Chloe was trying to wipe away the tears, just like I do whenever she cries, but they were coming too fast, too many for her to catch and wipe away.
"Chloe, do you want to go over to Daisy's house for a little while?" I asked, she didn't need to see me like this.
"Ok" she replied, but her eyes lacked the usual brightness they held whenever she went to see the next door neighbour, her best friend, Daisy. Instead they were filled with worry and confusion. I held her tiny hands in mine.
"I'm all right, go and see Daisy, use the back gate." I reassured her. She nodded once.
"Mummy, are you sure you are ok?" I nodded.
"Yes, yes mummy's fine, now go see Daisy" I replied.
When she was out of sight and I could see she had made it safely to Daisy's house, I collapsed.
I hit the cold, hallway tiles hard. I felt something shoot up my finger on my right hand, but I couldn't focus on that right now, the memories had taken hold.
I remembered the alley, his cold, hard embrace on my shoulder. His words, his rough grip, his lips, his body.
I remembered the pain, the confusion and the fear.
I remembered my voice, shrill, calling out for help.
I remembered no one comming.
I remembered being alone.
I remembered his hoarse whispers.
I remembered his disturbing words.
I remembered his actions, how he held me hard.
I remembered the cuts he gave me when I tried to get away.
I remembered his threats.
I remembered the tearing of my clothes.
In desperation I reached out to grab the phone.
I remembered no one comming.
I remembered his body on mine.
I remembered being alone.
I remembered his forcefulness.
"Pick up please pick up!" I screamed into the phone.
I remembered his lips.
I remembered his hands.
I remembered his legs.
I remembered his body.
"No! Please! Please pick up the phone!"
I remembered his words.
I remembered the pain.
I remembered the confusion.
I remembered the fear.
YOU ARE READING
Marked and Dangerous (On Hold)Teen Fiction
Deandra is working on a case that involved over 30 murders. The only thing all the murders seem to have in common is that they are completely and totally random. But what happens when a lead points Deandra and her friends in a different direction...