Tap tap tap tap tap tap. Non- stop. The detective scratched the back of his head, losing interst in her little games even though they had just started, and brought his hand slowly down upon hers, begging silently for some peace, please. She laughed slowly, building until it was a mass of manic chaos, circling him with an endless ring of noise. She stood and walked to the farthest corner of the room, cracking her pale neck as she did so, hands inscribing secret messages into the air with that twitch he had become familiar with.
“Sarah, won’t you come sit over here with me? I just want to talk today,” He asked quietly, voice clear and calm, all official. Some could easily confuse him with a kindergarten teacher, the way he had to speak with his clients.
“No please,” Sarah sang. She stopped suddenly, her body tight, as the memories of her past gradually washed over her. She began to hum slowly, pressing her raw palm to the icy window pane, starting unfixed upon the city before her. He knew she would respond now. The drugs were easing away, and she was all his, no influences.
“Tell me about what happened.” What happened; that silent fear, almost unspoken. The reason Sarah was here, locked away in one of New York’s finest, the one event that changed the course of this entire young girl’s life.
“They took it away…” She snapped, turning rapidly, body slow as if failing to catch up with her locked thoughts. He looked up, white-knuckled hand slowing over the yellow notepad. He could see the fire burning in her eyes, the truth leaking, like the tears streaming down her cheeks, and for one moment, she was not hiding behind her insanity but just raw, completely bare. She bit down hard on her bruised lower lip, trying to stop the truth, he assumed.
“What did they take? Who took what?” he probed, testing testing always testing pushing pushing never stopping. She flinched, blinking fast, clearing dust from her eyes and sat down in her abandoned chair. Sarah drew up her knees, playing with the rip in the knee of her pants. “Sarah, please answer the question.”
Her hands floated in the air above her, rising as her voice did, humming an infinite tune of pain and sorrow, sickly sweet. Her sad smile raised her lips, lifting the little color she had left in her cheeks.
“Way way took it away…way way took it away,” She sang repetitively.
The detective closed his eyes, and turned to look at the reflective window behind his, nodding his head once. She was gone before he could turn, before he could start to truly care about her whereabouts or what was being done to her. He had stopped losing sleep over clients long ago, and wasn’t about to start again. Unnecessary worry lines, his wife would say. He closed the file in front of him, and turned off the lamp as he left, locking the door, locking it forever.
“Sorry, Dr. Mortis. Don’t say I didn’t try,” He murmured to the Doctor waiting outside the door.
“Thanks Carl, Have a good night,” Dr. Mortis replied, patting him lightly on the shoulder, slipping Sarah’s file from Carl’s hands. Carl could faintly hear a girl weeping down the hall, and he shivered, knowing in the back of his mind who it was, and desperately forcing himself not to care. Because if he cared too much, then it would be that much harder to let them go.