Care For Me ✔️

F O R T Y - S E V E N

t h i r d — p e r s o n — p o v

Lily couldn't help the slight tremors that wracked her body, she was scared— terrified, of speaking about her horror filled upbringing.

She sat on a comfortable armchair in the warm questioning room in the NYPD station. The room was fairly large, a metal topped table in the centre, with four armchairs surrounding it, a large window— the view showing the busy streets of New York City. Dark blue carpeted floors and white walls, which were filled with posters and palm flips— all showcasing numbers of helplines, for survivors of; abuse, violence, rape— The list went on.

The word survivor stuck out to her, she hated being referred to as a victim— she imagined many others, who have been, or are in her situation do to.

"Are you ready to begin, Lily?" Detective Jones asked, his beryl gaze filled with pity as he stared across the table at the child before him.

Was she ready? Lily wasn't so sure she ever would be ready. Keeping her gaze on said posters, she couldn't help but recall Callan's previous words.

"You're fighters, you're strong, you're brave... I love you."

She could do this, she has people who support her— people who love her. Callan words rang true. She is a fighter, she is strong and she is brave, after all— she is a survivor.

"I'm ready." Lily confirmed, sitting up straighter in her seat. Her azure eyes filled with nothing but determination.

From the seat directly beside her, Zac stared at his little sister in awe. In that moment, he couldn't be more proud of her. She was facing one of her worst fears with her head held high. He couldn't believe the child beside him was only twelve years old— he couldn't believe how much she had suffered, how much they both had suffered. And yet, here they were ready to relive their worst nightmares.

"This conversation will be recorded Lily, I hope you don't mind?" Detective Jones asked, as he placed a small rectangular recording device in the centre of the table between them. Opening up a small note pad and clicking his black ball point pen, ready to write down the story of her life.

"That's fine."

"Very well. I'm going to begin by asking you a few questions. If you don't want to answer anything or would like a break, just let me know and we can stop." Keeping his voice soft, letting the small girl know that she didn't need to continue if the conversation became overwhelming.

Lily nodded in response. Taking a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for what's to come.

"What were things like at your home in LA before you moved New York?"

Home. The word caused Lily's nose to scrunch up in distaste, she would never refer to either of those houses as home— now that she knew the true meaning of the word.

"That wasn't my home, it never has been." Lily softly corrected, gazing at her converse covered feet.

"Sorry sweetheart, my mistake." He apologised, internally scolding himself for his choice of words.

"S'fine." Lily mumbled. "In LA... I wasn't allowed out of the house. They kept me locked in the basement— it had been that way for as long as I can remember. I'd never been to school or met anyone my own age."