Ordinarily Normal

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

'Hello sir, could it be that you are Dylan Smith?' asks the police officer.

I nod just a tiny bit but enough for him to tell it's a yes.

'I'm  Sergeant Grahams, may my colleagues and I come in for a chat?'

'Sure' I stutter.

'How old are you son?' asks another police officer called sergeant Melbourne.

'14 and 15 in February sir...'

'Right, well Dylan I'm afraid you are just too young to live alone.' says Sergeant Grahams.

'What? Sorry?' I mutter.

'The kid is just too young, he will need to be taken okay Melbourne' Says Sergeant Graham to his colleague Melbourne.

'Excuse me... Sorry... I don't understand' I say.

'Right-o Grahams, I will call someone now to speak about accommodation'

'Great' replies Grahams.

'Please explain... What's happening, what have I done, I don't understand, listen to me.' I repeat.

'Sorry, Dylan I'm sorry, come on let's take a seat, you need an explanation' says Grahams.

 We both sit down at the kitchen table with the light dimly flickering above and the night creeping in.

'I have some news, Dylan you have to realise this will be a shock, we cannot promise anything and we still have a lot of mystery to solve. I'm afraid to say that your parents car was found on a side road by a lake with a multitude of bullets down the right hand side. We have taken pictures and I would just like to ensure that this is their car  before we take further action Dylan.'

My heart sinks and I feel as though I'm underwater, drowning in my thoughts. The silence is deafening as Grahams takes the photos out. 

'This their car?'

'Yes...' I reply in the most timid voice that sounds almost alienated like it's not quite my own.

'I'm sorry Dylan'

I don't take in what he says and it goes completely over my head, all I can think is 'are my parents alive?'

I ask 'Where are my parents?'

'We don't know son, sorry, we just don't know.'

I keep it together and race upstairs to my room when Grahams asks to speak in private with the other police officer. Tears streaming down my face are hot and I cannot see straight. I collapse on my bed and curl up in a ball as if that is going to help from get away from reality. I have no clue where my parents are, why this happened, how this happened and I'm alone and scared with no family around for support. Alone.

I feel vulnerable and small, useless and childish. I have never deserved this, life is hard enough, but most of all neither did my parents deserve this. I don't know whether their hearts are still pumping blood around their body or their lungs are still taking in the oxygen. It's a mystery, and this is where I decide I need to find them. I will stop at nothing to find them.

Everything sounds muffled and as Grahams takes a step into my bedroom to speak to me. I'm seeing the haze of his face and everything looks blurred like abstract paintings, you never know what to make of it.

'Hush son, come on.' he says in a soft tone which I can tell he's trying to comfort me with but nothing on the face of this earth will comfort me from the news I've just heard. It's dripping with devastation.

'It cannot be correct though, this will not have happened to me, it's an ostensible theory, my parents will not leave me like that, it's not fair.'

'Dylan, it's highly unlikely they will be found, I've got to prepare you for the worst, I'm sorry, but if everything was okay surely they would have come home by now, Dylan I'm sorry.'

'What do I do, sir, what do I do, I'm falling in this ever deepening chasm of doom, my life is a load of useless rubbish.'

'Now you listen to me Dylan, Look at me.' So I do, I look him square in the eyes as if to say 'Are you joking, I may have lost my only parents I will ever have and you're bothered about something as pathetic as looking at you'. We sit in silence before he finishes his sentence 'You're going to have to come with us, you can't stay home alone you are just too young.'

'What if..what if I don't want to leave my house.'

'I'm afraid you are going to have to.'

I stand up and pace my bedroom floor thinking that maybe he is right, it isn't safe for me to be here alone for this amount of time. I subconsciously bring my hand to my forehead and push my hair backwards as if my hair is too hot on my forehead. I also grab the corner of my desk to steady myself.

'Pack up a quick overnight bag for tonight as the evening is drawing in, we don't have much time'

'How can I trust you? How do I know you're not going to kidnap me? How do I know that you won't torture me?'

'Dylan we are the police, look I will show you this card that states some quick details'  He takes out the slip, it's a little laminated piece of card that has the police station logo and a picture of him. 'See, I'm a qualified policeman Dylan, you don't need to worry, you're in safe hands.'

I pack my bag as quickly as possible and walk out to the car with the policemen either side as if I'm going to try and escape.  I turn around taking on last look at my house, as if I will never see it again.  I get into the car which is one of those disguised police cars, which are actually just normal everyday cars and this makes me even more edgy, how do I know I can trust these so called Policemen...

We arrive at the deserted police station and relief floods over me and I relax now that I'm sure I can trust these people. They are safe to be around. I try to busy myself by working out the diameter of the middle of the circular reception desk. I wonder as to why they made this desk circular, maybe to protect criminals coming in but they could still climb over the top. This place is riddled with criminals,  the seams are bursting. It's a place of doubt and depression. This is not a category that I fit into. I am on edge thinking that someone in here could have had something to do with the shooting. Then I come   back to reality, back to Dylan rather than Gregory and realise that's very unlikely and virtually impossible.

The grey walls surround us giving it a cold feel as if no one is welcome. A portable fan sits on the desk and I step in front of it benefitting from the fresh air as I'm a little overheated. Sergeant Grahams is talking quietly in virtually a whisper to a receptionist. She has long blonde hair and red pillar box lipstick. I've never got the concept of lipstick, it must be very uncomfortable to wear.

As my gaze is taken away from the receptionist who goes by the name Mrs. Beecham, I make a firm decision not to try to pronounce it as it could be Beck-ham, Beech-ham or Beak-ham. To many confusing ways to say it and Grahams is  talking so quietly I cannot hear him say it either.

I take a step to the right across the hall, to look at a leaflet stand which I think is absurd to have in a police station. I mean you're telling me you are going to get criminals dragged in here by police saying 'Ah yes, I must remember to pick up that leaflet telling me directions to 'The Yorkshire Wildlife park' after my 20 month long stay here because oh how I do love Chimpanzee's'. You wish...

Maybe I've stepped out of line because I turn back round to the two 'Police Humans' and both of their necks snap round simultaneously and stare at me like I'm some alien off Planet Mars. Perhaps I am, it feels like there might be two people inside me, fighting to take control. Gregory and me. I take a step nearer to them and they resume conversation. Since when did a leaflet stand become as precious as the Crown Jewels? Mysterious. Might I add.

After ten minutes a man walks in. He has a black cap on and is dressed rather smartly, he's looking to the floor so I cannot see his face but when he does look up I get a shock...