Poetry in Motion

12

Imelda was comfortable, peace reigned in her apartment and she was cosied up in bed; curled up in a ball, wrapped up tightly in her duvet. Yes, she was really comfortable. So, when it came to hearing constant knocking on the door, she couldn't help but groan. Her eyes slid open slowly, she stared at the wall opposite before sitting up. She stayed wrapped up as she waddled through her apartment to the front door. Sniffing quietly, she was content to feel that the lingering cold wasn't so bad anymore. She could actually breathe out of her nose, so that was something.

What wasn't a good something, was the continuous knocking. Imelda practically ripped the door off its hinges as she opened it. Her eyes widened; Arthur stood there with wide startled eyes. He probably wasn't expecting her to open the door so violently. Imelda looked awkward, wrapped up and standing there. The only real things which could be seen was the arm that opened the door, her face, and her bare legs with fluffy socks on her feet.

"Arthur."

"You forgot." He sounded dejected, he even looked it and Imelda felt bad. He seemed to spend so much time looking forlorn, it saddened her. He looked genuinely so happy when he smiled, and it was infectious. But the disheartened look? No, she felt awful. She had always sensed a sadness about him, but over the interactions they had, she felt like this was dwindling and disappearing. Having a friend worked wonders.

And that's why she offered to accompany him to his appointment. She slapped a hand to her forehead. "Social worker," she mumbled and ran her hand down her face. "Oh, Arthur...sorry, yeah, I did. I totally crashed last night; I was expecting you to tell me if you got through last night. Not appear this morning...come in, come in. I'll get ready really quickly." Imelda side stepped and ushered him in, Arthur shuffled in awkwardly, head slightly lowered as he still seemed upset, she had forgotten something important that she had suggested.

Arthur just watched as she ran back to her room, her door shutting somewhat behind her. Somewhat being it ricocheted off of the frame and stayed open a bit. Arthur glanced warily at it, biting the inside of his cheek he couldn't help it, he watched her form flit around through the gap. He physically forced himself to look away before he saw something he shouldn't. He'd hate himself for it, more than what he did for even contemplating peeping.

His eyes looked up at the wall. He frowned, "I thought you had taken all of this down?" He hadn't heard any more about her manhunt. He thought she had let it go. Taking on the police force was truly something. Definitely something one person couldn't do.

He heard something shut from her room, Arthur looked up and watched her walk towards him finishing braiding her hair. She wore a plaid red shirt underneath a black pinafore, simple but smart. Imelda looked at the wall with a sad look. "I should. I really should, a small part of me holds out hope to try and find something more out. But who am I kidding? Anything anyone knows will be all on the inside. And Commissioner Loeb won't see me, or tell me anything. Bastard."

"I stick by what I already told you, you need to be careful."

"It's resolved to everyone else, but not to me. But unfortunately, I think it's something that never will be resolved. He was thrown under the bus, his name utterly ruined and mine with it, and there's nothing I can do about it." She inhaled deeply and placed her hands in her pinafore pockets. "It's a horrible feeling, feeling powerless. Especially when you know everyone else is lying to your face." Imelda looked up at him, "Does it look like I need to be humoured?"

"I don't think they're withholding information to save or humour you. What's the first thing you'd do if you found anything out?"

"Go public."

"And they can't have that. Yes, okay, the police may not exactly be a presence down here. But those else in the city? They see them as competent, able. When we know they're not, El. But there's nothing we can do, because if we, you, keep pushing, you will get hurt. The worst part is, you won't be able to say who did the harming because like any doctor would listen and believe you." Arthur said, watching her eyes grow distant before blinking and looking up at him. He could see that she understood what he said. That he was being honest and truthful. "You're right, it is horrible being powerless. But we don't exactly have the power to change anything, do we?"