The place was immaculate, with a bed neatly made and clearly untouched. The floor was black with little golden flakes throughout, which he thought was a bit unusual, but it screamed “expensive.” He wasn’t very big on the fabulous lifestyle, but he can see the attraction and knew why the term “I can get use to this” was so famous. By the time he stepped to the center of the room, Rochelle rushes him with a huge hug. He is speechless.
“Do you recognize me?” She asks franticly while holding his elbows and looking deep into his eyes.
“Yes. Of course.” He says, confused.
“No. Really recognize me?”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“Dontae’ it’s me!”
“What are you talking about?”
Rochelle walked to the bed and took a seat on the floor, leaning her back on the bed.
“You don’t remember. I was twelve. We were twelve. Me and my sister. Rochelle.”
Dontae’ thought about what she just said. Suddenly, it hit him. His body slumps to the floor beside her. “You were the little girls.”
“You remembered me? All this time? He rhetorically asks, confused while staring into space.”
She took his hand. “When you were taking us to child services, you said—
Ω
Dontae’ always felt good when he put on his uniform. The black shirt with the matching pants made him feel like he was all about business. He had come a long way from the streets of Atlanta and now was becoming the man his father would be proud of; If he knew who his father was. His journey to get here was long and hard but worth it. He was now headed to a call for backup following a domestic dispute of some kind. This was a call every rookie officer was too familiar with. It usually ends with the woman either lying about being abused or not wanting to press charges, both being good training exercises.
The event that he pulled up to was completely out of the ordinary and not a simple domestic violence call. Yellow tape, ambulances, and officers were everywhere. Dontae’ approached the scene and entered the home. What he saw would haunt his nightmares for years to come. Blood pooled under a middle-aged man who laid face down on the living room floor. The knife that had entered his chest was now protruding from his back but hidden by the blood-stained shirt. It looked similar to a saimiri falling on his sword in pursuit of an honorable death. Just to the right of him, lying on the couch, was a woman. Her intestines were hanging from her open stomach and were now dangling, touching the floor. Her face was chopped up beyond recognition. It looked like random slices of meat displayed in a bowl of hair and bone. Dontae’ rubbed his eyes, trying to unsee the horror that lay in front of him. Officer Brady, who Dontae’ had recently spent time with during training, approached him.
“Dontae’ I’m sorry they sent you. I don’t think you are ready for this.” He said with a disgusting look on his face.
“I’m fine. What the fuck happened?”
“Looks like he chopped her up good then, his self. Come here.” He places his arm around Dontae’s shoulders, and they walk outside. “You want to know what’s really fucked up? Look over there.” He points at two little girls sitting on the back of an ambulance wrapped in blankets. “Those are their children. They saw the whole thing.”
Dontae’s heart wrenched with pain as he watched the little girls silently cry. A woman was bent at the waist talking to them. He assumed she was some kind of counselor because one thing was for sure, they would need a lot of counseling.
The lead detective walked out of the door and looked in the officers’ direction.
“Hey, come here.” The man said, waving his fingers before placing his hand on his forehead in frustration.
They oblige.
“I need one of you to take those girls to child protective services.”
Before he realized it, Dontae’ spoke.” I’ll do it.”
The Detective looked at him as the other office walks away. “Ok, the woman that’s talking with them will follow you. Just get them there and son, please try to keep their thoughts in a good place. This is hard for anyone, especially for them.”
Dontae’ looked into the rearview mirror at the girls who were now holding each other silently. The tears had stopped, but the dry tracks on their little cheeks remained. Dontae’ decided to break the silence.
“Do you girls want to hear some music?”
They remained silent.
“How about a little jazz.” He turned the knob, and light music began to play. After a short while, he realized that the girls weren’t interested and turned it off. They had just witnessed their parents die and didn’t have a soul in this world who would take custody of them. The last thing they wanted was Miles Davis. Dontae’ didn’t have children, and he didn’t know exactly what to say, but he was human, and he could dig deep and find the decency of humanity to say something.
“I don’t know what you are going through, and I have never been in your shoes, so I won’t lie about that. You are sisters, right?”
The girls nodded.
“The hurt will never go away, but it will get easier. Some days will be better
