Being thrown away in the garbage in a dark alleyway in London when she was only a baby, she should have died that day... But she didn't.. instead, a man saved her. He brought her in and saved her, fed her, bathed her, raised her and more importantly...
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I walk with him inside 'the crime scene' and go straight to my 'room'. My room isn't even a room and is rather a storage cupboard. He raises his eyebrows at me questionably. "I never caught your name". I say while grabbing some clothes and necessities... "Oh right sorry my name is officer Jenkins, but you can call me Frank". I nod and grab the photo of me and dad from under my pillow. In the photo, I am on his shoulders laughing with dad while holding my teddy bear. I carefully put the photo in a sole of the backpack not wanting to ruin the only photo I have of me and him. I then grab the teddy bear from under my bed and shove it in the bag not wanting to catch Franks amused and questioning face. my face is hard crimson and I probably look like a tomato. I cough and clear my throat. "You have everything you need"? nodding my head we then leave.
I know frank is probably wondering and thinking I am weird about my reaction to this. To be honest I am surprised myself. I should be freaking out and asking a million of questions but surprisingly I am calm.. very calm. "How long will they be locked in for"? I break the silence with my blunt question. "Considering the extent to kg of drugs they had I would say quite easily over 14 years". He looked at me with pity and sad eyes. I knew he felt sorry for me but I didn't care. The rest of the car ride was deathly silent and no one dared to say a word.
Getting to the police station I was pulled into an interrogation room. You would think I was the one caught with drugs. They asked me a billion questions. Like did I ever see them take any drug-related substances? Or did I ever see them buy or sell drugs? I answered truthfully and without a thought. For some reason, I was scared that the topic of abuse would come up. All my bruises and injuries are pretty well covered but the anxiety in my chest only grew. Apart of me wanted to tell them and get justice but the other couldn't. because partly it didn't care anymore and I was also kind of scared.
After a lot of questions, I was given a sandwich and a cup of tea. I took the tea happily and put the sandwich in my bag for later. Frank sat in the chair in front of me filling out my witness form. "So, what's going to happen to me now"? Frank looks at me and places his pen down and interlocks his fingers. I play with the handle of my mug dreading whatever answer I will be getting. "We took a DNA test from hair we found on your pillow. I wanted to find any possible blood relatives". Anger stirs inside me, no way in fuck am I going to any blood relatives. They bloody left me in a trash can and they seriously want me to go and live with them. "What if you can't find them"? I was praying to God itself that this was the case and that maybe I don't have any and they are all dead. "Then you will be placed into the foster care system but for your sake, I am hoping that some relatives will appear. I have a feeling you have some relatives out there just waiting for you". I wanted to punch his face so badly and scream at him. But I kept reminding myself that he was a police officer.
