Water In My Lungs

Man or Animal

Connor hadn't expected the lone cop car sitting in front of her house upon her arrival that night. It revived the dying memory of Gallagher's bloated corpse, a memory she would have liked to spare herself from. It twisted through her gut, sending anxiousness through her chest like bees finding refuge in a nest.

She had to catch her breath, stroll turning into a brisk jog towards the deck. She had avoided the vehicle like it was an encroaching predator, thrusting herself through the cracked front door to find Estelle. Her friend's hair was wild, falling in humid segments around her face like it had caught the first rain fall. Her mascara had fallen under her eyes and streaked across her cheeks like watercolors. A man in uniform leaned on the counter-top furthest from her, jotting down notes with a smooth, silver pin.

It would be seven hours later that they would leave Shannon's police station, carrying out the styrofoam cups of espresso the interviewer had forced on them. They knew better than to hand over a perfect sample of their fingerprints and DNA. Both Connor and Estelle knew that the town had become biased, that the men in the concrete-walled room had no interest in clearing their names. Estelle walked at a faster pace than her friend, wearily glaring at the narrow-eyed police officer from the night of Gallagher's reappearance.

"I suppose you two will be needing a ride," he chortled, thumb hitched in the direction of his eroding assigned work vehicle. He leaned against it, one leg over the other and coffee in his non-gesturing hand.

"And why would you assume that?" Connor nearly barked, subconsciously taking a protective step ahead of Estelle, arm outstretched in front of her. "We've answered your questions."

He shot them a smug smile, uncrossing his legs as he stood upright. "Well, word travels fast." He didn't even need to lift a chin to the random passer-bys that stood outside the police station- watching the foreign girls with distant interest. "Wouldn't want you two to come across any unfriendly townsfolk." He licked his lips, voice lowering. "Trust me, quine, there's plenty."

Estelle's chest heaved as she released a tired sigh, sleep deprivation taking its toll. "Connor, let's just let him take us home. I'm tired and I don't want to walk. I just want to go to bed."

Connor could hear the desperation in her friend's voice. She knew motivation had dwindled when Estelle had called Alan to inform him that Naill had never removed the car from their front lawn. The older girl could understand Estelle's stance on the matter. Alan was a good man, a missing son would break his heart.

"You did the right thing, calling him, I mean." Connor whispered, hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't want him waiting for him to come home."

"He might, Estelle. We just have to give it time. They can't file a missing persons report until 48 hours... It has to be Alan who does it, regardless. He's family."

"He won't. He's not going home. Naill's gone." Estelle's voice had became barely audible as they reached the policeman, finally nearing enough to read the badge across his chest.

O'BRIEN

He opened the door slowly for them, as if being polite. There was something mistrusting in his eyes that said otherwise, as if he were waiting for his chance to conduct an interrogation of his own.

They slid onto the cool, grey, leather seats. Estelle sat in the middle, knees tilted towards Connor's and head resting on her shoulder. She stared out the opposite window. They'd always found physical touch to be a natural reaction in times of fright, a form of comfort that was unusual to others. Connor was much more prone to this, often establishing a strong connection with those whom she found to form a sudden chemistry with.