By Touch

1 || Police Questioning

1 || Police Questioning

Darkness was my friend.

Him and I were well acquainted. After all, he was in fact home to everything that my eyes took in. People that feared Darkness simply hadn't been in his company long enough to know there wasn't a danger, only a difficulty. Fear stems from the unknown. Taking into account I had met and familiarised myself with this particular companion of mine some three years ago and we hadn't left one another's company since, I could wholeheartedly vouch that Darkness was not a danger to you once you overcame his difficulty. As many objects randomly materialise as creatures manifest from the shadows. Darkness was simply life as it was, only with the lights out. If you knew what was there, was there really anything to fear?

To correct my earlier statement, darkness was my friend - until now.

You see, I hadn't realised that the reason my fear had been kept at bay all of this time had been solely down to one person: Gabriel. I'd always known he was in my darkness. Whether it be his voice, his help, or even that stupid teepee shape of a car, in my vast greyscape his omnipresence had always circulated to put my mind at ease. He wouldn't leave me even if I wanted him to because he was a true friend. The type your parents thought of as one of their own. The type that if your parents worried about you going some place, they wouldn't hassle you if they knew they were with you because that meant everything was fine. The type that hanging out with them felt as easy as breathing because they were just as familiar and just as essential to you. The type that when they were gone, you would feel it and probably never fully recover.

It took a great while for Sebatian to get any form of comprehensible sentence out of me, and a great while longer for him to find my cane and help guide me away from Gabriel's limp form to sit at his doorstep in order to give the police some space. Apparently we had been virtually next to said doorstep. Only Sebastian's garden had been between the incident and his house. It had essentially happened on his driveway, so it could be said that Sebastian, having apparently been quietly partaking in some Sunday brunch in his open bay-windowed kitchen, had heard my shrieks with a fair amount of clarity. His front garden was large, there was no denying it, but it probably shouldn't have taken any more than ten seconds to reach his door with a fast-paced, stress-induced march. Of course with my snivelling, dead-weight for Sebastian to half carry it was probably closer to ten minutes. What had probably been something Sebastian considered a small kindness, extracting me from the scene and settling me down by his home, undoubtedly turned into a regrettable one. No sooner had our backsides graced the stone steps were we being beckoned over for questions. It really hadn't been so much a rest as it had been a gruesome chore.

"Who was with him?" Came a gruff voice belonging to who I assumed to be someone of authority.

"What did she see?" Came another none too dissimilar.

Well, thought my subconscious, as if I was suddenly starring in some dark comedy programme, that's an awkward one to answer.

"Not much," I said. My voice sounded foreign to my own ears, a hoarse whisper. I couldn't remember the last time I had cried so much and my throat was certainly remembering why I tried to avoid doing so. It felt red raw simply to intake a breath, never mind voicing the English language. I gestured to my cane to draw their attention to the inevitable issue needing addressed. I was sure it looked as if I was gripping onto the object for dear life. It was no wonder, really, considering it was actually the only familiar thing I had in this entire setup.

"You'll probably find this to be a rather unique case..." I heard Sebastian say quietly. He roughly recounted what he'd heard, and then described the sorry state of affairs that he'd witnessed upon leaving his house.