Sarah Miller // Stephanie Brown (itseggplant) wrote in ourtrueselves, @ 2009-12-11 10:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | sarah evans |
Who: Sarah Evans and some NPC cops.
When: Friday 11th December, 2009
Where: New York City
What?: Her parents are deeeeeeead. Oh, and the chaos plot begins!
Warning: Angst and writing I'm not happy with?
There was something about sitting in the back of a cop car that took her right back to her childhood. Memories of cops bursting into her house when she was little to take her dad away, and a kind woman helping her put on her shoes and jacket to take her to the station to wait for her mom to pick her up. Her dad, cuffed in the back of a separate car promised her that everything would be alright and they’d just made a mistake, and she’d clung to that as she sat at the station, colouring in a sheet that they’d given her and sipping some apple juice. Her mom had hit the roof when she’d arrived, dressed in her work clothes that still smelled faintly of the hospital.
She’d cling to the thought that everything would be okay, and that they had obviously just made a mistake, but Sarah thought it would have the same results as it did when she was four; false hope and disappointment.
Sarah had tried to call her mom and step-dad when the cops had show up at her apartment. She’d tried desperately to get more than a voicemail message; You’ve reached Laura Fitzgerald, please leave a message after the tone. Every time she heard the same familiar message she lost a little bit of hope, as it became more and more unlikely that the cops had just made a mistake and everything would be alright.
The drive to the morgue in Brooklyn took less time than she expected, and once the detective let her out of the car she pulled her coat firmly around herself to keep out the cold December air as she was lead into the building. The same chemical smell that she’d come to associate with hospitals hit her as she was shown the way through corridors and into an examination room.
There were two bodies lying on stainless steel metal tables in the centre of the cold room with white sheets pulled over them. The whole room made Sarah feel like a little girl again, she was far too young to be doing this, standing in a room with two detectives and a medical examiner waiting for them to pull back a sheet so she could see if her parents were dead. This wasn’t something she wanted to do either, of course it probably wasn’t something a lot of people ever wanted to do. She didn’t want to be here, doing this; she wanted to be at home, or out taking part in the stupid dare war or just anywhere else and doing anything that wasn’t exactly what she was doing right now.
“Miss. Evans, are you ready?” The Detective asked.
Sarah nodded, it’s not like there’d be a better time to do this, as never didn’t seem to be an option for her. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
She stared at the bodies, trying to see something other than the cuts, bruises and -Jesus, fuck - burn marks. Is there anyway this could be worse?
“It’s them. It’s… I can’t… excuse me.” She pushed her way past the detectives and bolted out of the morgue. She had to fight to keep from throwing up, taking in deep breaths of crisp, cold air. She just had to stop her hands from shaking, stop herself from throwing up, stop herself from seeing the battered bodies of her parents in her head, stop herself from crying, and she needed to just go home.