Petals Fall Once, Never Twice | ONC24

5. Despair.

Tara hesitated by the entrance for a moment, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands. 

"It'll be fine," she whispered. "I can do it."

As soon as she stepped inside, the pungent odor of alcohol and sweat assaulted her airways. Her eyes watered, and she choked on her breath. Once the coughs subsided, the faint hum of a fan barely masked the silence that engulfed the space.

A dim light flickered in the corridor, casting long shadows against the peeling walls. A few weary and disheveled officers were scattered throughout the room. A couple sat slumped in their chairs, dozing off, while another leaned against the desks, his eyes glazed with exhaustion.

Boxes were stacked atop each other, with words scribbled over them in red marker, some of their contents spilling out onto the floor. Upon closer inspection as Tara passed, it became evident that they were labeled with various contraband items that had been confiscated during recent raids or arrests, awaiting processing or disposal.

Everyone seemed unfazed by the disarray surrounding them and hardly paid her any attention until she stopped by the desk of the only one still awake where the air was thick with the acrid scent of cigarette smoke.

The officer, with dark circles under his eyes, looked up from his paperwork. His gaze lingered for a moment before returning to his task.

"How can I help you?" He rushed out, half-heartedly. It was a robotic, automated question, spoken out of obligation rather than genuine concern. Tara idled by his desk, unsure of what to do. "What brings you here, Miss?"

"I've been...raped," she mumbled.

He paused, glanced up, then gestured to the chair beside her. "I'm sorry to hear that," he started, offering her a cup of water which she hastily gulped while he scribbled something on a paper. As soon as she set the glass down, he spoke again, "Can you tell me in detail what happened before, during, and after the incident?"

Tara balled her fists, and a muscle in her jaw ticked. Forcing the words out, she shared the gist of everything that had happened to her. Kidnapped, raped, released. By the time she finished, her leg was bouncing, her hands were shaking, and her face was red. She wanted to evaporate as if she never existed.

He scribbled some more before asking her the date, time, and location of the incident which she relayed. A couple of cards scattered by the edge of the desk caught her attention. In an attempt to calm her simmering blood, she picked one to toy with. It was the business card of a lawyer.

"Any witnesses?"

Crossing her ankles, she rested her elbow on the chair. "Not really. Oh, well," she gritted out, "there were a few but I don't know who they are."

Tara thought it highly unlikely of them to testify and help her. If they wanted to, they would've stepped up then. Hell, if they were scared, they could've contacted the police at least.

"What about the perpetrators? Do you know their names? Can you describe them to me?"

Tara shook her head in frustration, realizing that all the details she had tried to memorize about their appearance were now useless. What would a mole or a few freckles help with, anyway? She was unable to discern their heights or build due to her sitting position in the backseat. Besides, throughout her captivity, their faces had been concealed from her, the room always dimly lit, and whenever they guided her to the restroom, they made sure her eyes were covered. She could only hope to recognize them if she ever encountered them again. 

The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Could she unknowingly cross paths with them in the future without realizing who they were? Had she perhaps seen them before?