Amnesia [Completed/Editing]

Chapter Two // Siara Lynn Dupont

CHAPTER TWO // SIARA LYNN DUPONT

[WORD COUNT: 3111]

[TOTAL: 10121]

BEAUTIFUL COVER ON THE SIDE IS BY @TAMEDKISS.

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I’ve always wanted to be a detective, even when I was just a child with no clear sense of right and wrong. I wanted to be that person that everyone marveled over and felt safe enough to confide in, or even the small minorities like dropping their children off knowing that I wouldn’t cause any harm to their children. When I was ten years old, this was what I wanted my life career to be.

But when my mother murdered my father in cold blood right in front of me with sadistic eyes, I thought that perhaps being a detective is not all what it seemed to be. I kept on thinking, maybe if I had the knowledge I would have noticed that there was tension between my parents. I would have noticed that they stopped sleeping in the same bed, one went to the couch and the other went to the guest room. I would have noticed that my mother came home during midnight with her clothes torn, lips swollen and ratty hair. But I was ten and I still had the innocence that every child had. It vanished as soon as I saw my mother staring directly at me, eyes full of no remorse, only cold and calculating as she stabbed him straight in the heart.

For years I contemplated the reason why and to this day I still wonder why she did it. But I never get my answers, and I fear that I never will, since she’s locked up in a psychiatric ward two hours away from the city. I wouldn’t dare visit her, for her eyes still haunt me in my dreams. 

Of course, I know now that being a detective has it’s advantages and it’s disadvantages and was far off than what I expected it to be as a child. The advantages being that I know everything thats going on as soon as it happens as well as other useful minorities, like having respect. The disadvantages being that justice isn’t really served on a golden platter without breaking the law in some form or another. Meaning that in order for justice to be truly served sometimes I have to break the law just to prove one's innocence. Although I am a homicide detective–handling all the gory cases that no one else wants–and heavily confide in the law, I must admit that this system is flawed. If it was up to me, the whole system would be recreated from scratch and there would be new logical, rational laws that have reasoning and common sense.

“What do we have here, Jobs?” I asked my friend and co-worker Jacob Jobs. I met Jacob two years after I started working here and stuck to calling him Jobs instead of his real name. This led to him nicknaming me Lynn, instead of Siara. Where he got that nickname from I will never know but he has me used to everyone calling me Lynn as if that was my born name.

This was a somewhat average day for me, interrogating criminals and finding out their antics and motives. It was rare when my job was difficult and I praised the days that it was. Especially with fucked-up psycho's who think that they rule the world. And to prove their point they resort to murdering people, in which they think of themselves as superior. How they came to that logic I will never know.

Jacob hands me a folder. “Holland Jefferson. A forty-one year old caucasian male who murdered five people with a pistol in front of hundreds of civilians.” I open the folder, and inside are considerable amounts of useful photos and other evidence.

“Anything else I need to know before I head inside?” I tell him while I shut the folder and tuck it under my arm. 

“Besides the fact that he’s a lunatic?” Jacob scoffs and shakes his head. “Nothing else. Good luck, so far he hasn’t spoken a word to anyone yet.”