Why Am I Here? I am lost

- Questioning The Lockwells -

"Miss lockwell. I have some questions to ask about the murder of your husband...

All I could see was a broken woman who lost the love of her life, and a boy, who had lost his father, his best friend...

'darkness of night, made the darkness in sight - seem as if though.. there'd be no light'

"I know this is difficult... I know. I lost my mother last year an-

"THEY MURDERED HIM!!!"

She started sobbing.

"WHY DID THEY KILL HIM!!!! Ahhhh no no no..!!!!! Why..?"

"Lockwell... I'm here to help. I know this is hard to deal with, I'm going to find this bastard that murdered your husband."

I seemed to have grabbed her attention. As she wiped her tears away with the sleeve of a jumper that had been damaged, which seemed like burn marks.
I stayed quite on that, until later.

"There was more than one person!
At least 3 of them were here!
They butchered him in front of us!!!!
WHAT MONSTERS!!!"

She was scared from the events of which she, and her son both seen.
That much was obvious.

"You said, at least 3? Okay. Let me write this down for my partners and I to follow with."

As I jotted down the fact of multiple attackers, the urge to question the burn marks was too strong to refuse.

"Miss?"

"Yeah?"

"Your jumper... what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"It looks as though it's been burnt in parts... How was your relationship with your husband?"

"You're really worried about these?"

As she scoffed at my concern; She showed me even more burn marks on her sleeve that I hadn't seen before, and while showing me; I noticed more marks on her arm through the burnt holes.

"Yes, I am."

"We... we were... good. Great even. I just... why are you asking me this?"

"Was your husband ever abusive to you?"

"What??? No.. I.. well.. he'd get angry sometimes, for no reason - but... he would never harm me."

"Are you telling me the truth?"

Always being direct. Sometimes it's better to be, and in other times... it's best to leave certain things unsaid.

"Yes!! Why are you asking all these questions for?"

"That's my job miss. I'm here to know more, so I can help."

Joyce called for me with an angry expression. Perhaps I was pushing this woman too much. I just needed answers.

I gave a signal to show I was almost finished.
Then I continued my questioning.

"Can you describe these men you saw?"

"They covered their face with some sort of mask, that had a purple scarf that connected to it. That's all I remember, I promise"

"That's fine, at least now we have something to look out for."

I attempted to speak with her son. He was young, under the age of 10 - that much was clear. He hadn't spoke and barely even blinked. I wonder what was going on inside his mind...

"Hey buddy"

"..."

"I'm one of the good guys. Me and my colleagues will avenge your father by bringing justice to the men who done this to him."

I didn't want to question the boy. To make him reenact the scenes within his mind.
He had already been traumatised by witnessing his own fathers murder.
No one at his age should go though, or even witness that sort of horror.

What kind of sick fuck would murder a sons father in front of them...
I WILL FIND WHO DID THIS.
I thought to myself at the time.

"Why?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Why did you do it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you kill my daddy?"

"I... I'm one of the good guys. I'm going to find who done this."

"Daaaadddyy whyyyy!!"

This is too much for me.

"I think I have all that I need"

I looked miss Lockwell in the eyes.

"I will avenge your husband. I will find who done this, and I will put an end to them. Mark my words. I will bring justice to them. For all of the people they have murdered."

As I walked away, I felt a hand on my left shoulder.

"Detective?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"That's what I'm here for miss. It's not and never a problem. Help is help, after all."

I will put an end to this... I must...

...but you can get through this...