I was pushed roughly into the small cell, the officer banged the door shut making the walls of the tiny cell rattle. I placed my hands on the bars, sighing I closed my eyes and rested my head on the cold, hard iron bar.
It had all happened so fast, one minute I was sitting in my dining room eating chicken soup when I heard the screams, I run outside looking at the havoc on the street around me. A woman was guiding her crying child away, an elderly man with a walking stick was rushing inside his house with his dog at his tail.
That’s when I heard the screams again, it was coming from a block away, down an alleyway. I ran towards it and turned into the dark and grim entrance but ceased once I saw what was happening.
I just stood there motionless, every movement felt considerably slowly, a group of teenage kids were frantically shoving past me. One of them put something cold and wet in my hands, I looked down to see a black crowbar with blood seared all over it which was now unpleasantly spreading to my fingers, it felt like it was burning my skin. I looked to the agony-filled cries for help and ran towards the screaming man. Battered and bruised, he was laying clutching his stomach and head, tears rushing down his pale face.
"This is it now isn't it? I'm gonna die. God's gonna take me away, to heaven where the angels are. I bet it's beautiful there, no anger, no rage, no hatred or revenge, just love, love and happiness. Seems so delightful" by now my eyes were swollen and puffy filled by tears spilling out as he gripped my hands. I couldn’t talk, no matter how hard I tried to swallow the giant lump in my throat I couldn’t talk, the only thing I could do was cry even more. I tried pulling my hand out of his to get my phone from my back pocket but he wouldn’t let go, it felt as if holding onto my hands was the only things keeping him here, it’s as if, if he lets me go, he'll be gone forever.
I yet again swallowed the abnormal sized lump in my throat and whispered brokenly, "please, let me help you, let me call an ambulance, please!"
"No, please don’t. I'd rather die here than die being attached to wires and…oxy..oxygen masks and paramedics rushing around trying to save my life"
A new batch of tears formed in my eyes as watched heartbroken at him trying his hardest to form coherent sentences.
"Can you do me a favour?" I nodded, his voice was merely above a whisper, "can, can you tell my wife, Debbie and my, my daughter Isabella, that I, I love them and that I will always, always be in their hearts?" My heart had officially broken and the tears were spilling out like a downpour, he has a wife and daughter…
"Will you? Please, promise me you will?" I nod and whispered
"I promise".
"Thank you, thank you very much, you’re a good person" he smiled weakly, "I guess this is it now, it's time for me to go, goodbye now" he looked up at the grey sky, "take me away God, take me to you" and just like that I was alone, alone and holding onto the bit of light I hoped was still left within him but I knew, I knew he was gone, forever.
He looked as white as a ghost, the only colour seemed to be his matted brown hair sticking to his forehead and the blood, now dry but was once oozing from his head.
"No, no! Please stay, please don’t go, please I beg you, do it for your wife, your daughter!" I placed my head on his chest and whispered, "Please don’t go, I didn’t even know your name"
"Hey, get out here, you have a visitor!" I was shaken out of my reverie, back to reality, back to looking around at the grim, dirty walls of the tiny jail cell. The officer looked at me, bored and expectant.
"Excuse me?" I asked still a bit dazed from my walk down memory lane.
"I said, get out here, you have a visitor!" he spoke even louder, as if I was deaf or unable to understand him.
I got up mutely, wondering who could be wanting to talk to someone who was accused for killing a 35 year old business man, with a 5 year old daughter and a wife.
Walking past the other jail cells, I looked at all the grim stricken men, some of them had murderous look on their face, the others just looked dead in the eyes.
As I walked into the visitors room, what was before me was shocking.
She was the last person I ever thought would want to talk to me, much less be in the same room as me. I couldn’t understand her reasoning for being here…I was accused of killing her husband. Did she want to yell at me?
Cautiously I sat down opposite of her, I couldn’t look her in the eyes, but I could feel her burning gaze staring at my forehead.
Slowly, I looked up, meeting her intense eyes, determination swirling in them.
She spoke softly but in a demanding way,
"Tell me what really happened".
