Facade

34|| broken system

Song : Paralyzed - NF

~ Alejandra ~

There's only one thing I've been thinking about for the past two hours that I've been here; Police stations always sound the same.

There's the constant ringing of desk phones and voices all blurred into background noise. Occasionally, there's metal clinking together at the sound of cuffs or the banging of metal coming from the holding cells.

Interrogation rooms are quieter.

There's only you staring back at yourself through the one way glass, waiting in silence for someone to acknowledge you.

The worst part is that you know they're out there.

They're watching you like a fish in it's tank, so mesmerized by how you sit, how you react to the pressure of the box.

I don't react.

I can't bring myself to.

From the scene, officers brought me in a squad car the few blocks to the nearest and only precinct in the area, silently escorting me through the station.

Nobody spoke to me and if they did, I was too out of it to hear them.

The station looks the same as every other station with the desks, phones, cells and other bullshit. The people looked at me the same way as I entered, too.

With dried tear streaks down my face and blood on my hands and clothes, they all stopped to look up and silently ask the same question.

What the fuck happened to that girl?

Fortunately, I couldn't really pay anyone any mind.

I've been busy staring at my blood stained skin, trying to pick out the red from under my nails.

They didn't let me change or wash my hands before they stuck me in this dim lit room with the metal table as cold as its matching seat to relive the events of today so I've just been here, trying to forget.

Finally, the door opens and two plain clothed officers enter.

I don't look up.

I'm still trying to get this blood off.

Through my peripheral, I can tell that one of the cops is a woman. She's the one who takes a seat across from me while the other closes the door behind him and stands there.

"Hi hun, I'm officer Hadley." She introduces herself.

I stay quiet, still fixated on my hands.

"This is my partner, officer Tores."

The name is familiar and when I stop what I'm doing to look up at him, I can't believe it.

Officer Nicolas Tores.

When I first met him, he was the rookie cop taking his first statement from a little girl who watched her mom get killed.

Now, he's slightly aged with more facial hair and worry lines on his forehead, stuck in the only police station on the Lower East Side.

I can see the job's done some work on him.

That dark brown hair of his isn't laid back with gel anymore. Instead, he's keeping it in it's natural, fluffy swoop where it falls right above his forehead.

He's gotta be in his thirties by now.

"Hun."

I turn my attention back to the woman, who I've clearly just blocked out.