Man In Uniform

Officer Austin

It only took 20 years for me to finally get arrested. I’m sure my parents would be proud of me. That’s if they were actually alive.

Both my parents died suddenly when I was just two years old. Car crash apparently. I lived with my grandmother until the age of 5. Sadly, the caring woman developed a memory loss disease called Alzheimer’s disease. This made her uncapable of caring for a child which resulted in her being placed in a nursing home, and me being placed in an orphanage.

Being an orphan is all I can remember. I’ve been forced to believe that some day a loving family would adopt me and take me under their wing. With each passing foster home and each new disaster, I was fed more lies to keep my small, five-year-old mouth happy and quiet. "This home will be your last home." "We love you." "We would never leave you."

My life was based around lies.

Lies come in every shape and size. From every corner of the world, and no matter where you hide, the beast known as a lie will find you. No matter how hard you try accept the lies as truth, they will always be what they are.

Growing up in a new foster home every few months was rather difficult. With each household came new rules and with new rules came new responsibilities. No two houses were the same. My first foster family consisted of a young male and female who had a lot of issues with conceiving a child. After taking the IVF treatment they finally got pregnant. Pregnant with triplets. This followed by me being sent back to the orphanage as they didn’t think they would be able to afford to keep me. I was treated like an unwanted dog.

Within days I was packed up and sent out to a farm a few miles outside of the city. At six years old I was responsible for collecting eggs that the hens had laid over night. At seven, it was my duty to milk and feed the cows. Farm duties became part of my daily routine by the age of nine. These few years spent on a farm developed my love for animals and taught me how to become independent at a very young age.

After being transferred to a few more foster homes, I decided, at age 12, that I no longer wanted a ‘loving family’. I was better off alone. I made no friends in school or in the orphanage, I payed no attention to couples who wanted to foster me. I basically became the only person I needed in my life. It was very lonely at times. I had decided that the second I turned 18 I was out of the orphanage and providing for myself.

I got rather lucky at age 13 when a distant aunt finally got in contact with the orphanage. Aunt Becky, my dad’s older sister, lost all contact with me after my fathers’ death. It took her almost 10 years to finally contact the orphanage.

Becky was a rather interesting character. She liked to call herself 'The ultimate daredevil.' You could say she raised me to be who I am now, almost a complete replica of her. By that I mean my mentality. My strong and independent character was built from her crazy and dangerous lifestyle.

Of course, since we were family, we shared a few common features such as our long, waist length, brown hair and green eyes. I was always told that I had my father's looks. That would explain why my aunt and I looked quite familiar. If not her older age, we could be mistaken for sisters.

I lived with my aunt until the age of 17 when she died from lung cancer. It was quite predictable though. She would smoke at least three boxes of cigarettes a day. The house always smelled of smoke and the furniture all had cigarette burns in them. So aged 17 I was returned to another foster home which I stayed in until the very morning of my 18th birthday. With my birth certificate and a few other important documents, I was told I was an adult and had to care for myself.

My parents and aunt Becky had left a hefty fortune for me which I was only allowed to access after my 18th birthday had passed. This allowed me to hit the ground running with my new life. After a long and miserable 13 years I was finally free. So, I decided to travel half way across the small island of Ireland and live in the heart of the country, Dublin City. Two years of mischief later and here I am, at the back of a cop car.

“I didn’t do anything!” I call for the third time as we drive through the dimly lit city. Despite the fact that it’s getting pretty late, the traffic in Dublin is still slow. It takes about 20 minutes for us to finally reach the police station.

Officer Austin and his partner both get out of the car first. Austin walks around the car and opens my door for me since I can’t get out from the inside. He reaches in and takes my arm in his strong hand to help me out of the car. “Such a gentleman,” I say rolling my eyes at him. Austin smirks. “If you want to get out of the car alone, I don’t mind. Goodluck with these handcuffs on your wrists though,” he laughs. I scoff.

Austin leads me through the building until we reach an empty office with a cell inside. He removes my cuffs and locks me in the cell then throws the keys carelessly on the office table. “Stay here,” he orders with a smirk on his face. I sigh in defeat. It doesn’t take long until officer Austin returns with the elder looking officer from the shopping centre.

“Hi, my name is Robert and I will be asking you a few questions,” he informs me. “No comment,” I answer, crossing my arms. The less I tell them, the less trouble I get in. The officer sighs. “What’s your name?” He asks. I shrug. “I don’t have a name,” I answer. “I go by ‘shadow’,” I lie. Austin and Robert look at each other with frustrated expressions on their face.

“What’s your address?” asks officer Robert. I laugh. “If I won’t tell you my name, what makes you think that I’m going to give you my address?” I ask. Robert scribbles down a few things in his journal. “Miss, if you do not co-operate with me, I will have to charge you with disrupting a police investigation,” says Robert. “I have the right to silence,” I remind him. Austin smirks yet the other officer doesn’t see this smirk.

“You’re right,” he answers. “I will go do some more investigation myself,” states Robert as he collects his belongings. “Austin, can I speak to you outside please?” says Robert. They both leave the office, leaving me all alone once again.

I sit down on the small metal bench provided within the cell. I look around. The cell has no personality. Its depressing and cold. Everything is made from silver, boring metal. There is a sink, a toilet and a bench. That’s all. Nothing to entertain myself with.

After about 20 minutes of loneliness I begin to get frustrated. I’m hungry, cold and bored. “Hello? I’m still here, I’m still a human!” I shout. “I’m hungry!” I add. No answer. Feeling even more frustrated, I kick the wall of the cell.

I sit back down on the bench and try to get comfortable, but fail. I lean my head back and close my eyes. It’s late and I’m beginning to get tired. Eventually I decide to give up on the bench and just hang out on the floor. It’s much more comfortable anyway. Within a couple of minutes, I feel sleep take over my body. I don’t fight it. I just let myself fall into the uncomfortable, uneasy sleep.