Chapter 3 : Police

Jane spent her day with Mallory, her neighbor. She liked playing with her because she had a dog, and she wanted so bad a dog to play with. But her parents didn't want an animal at home, and she thought it was better for him too, her father was getting more and more violent, she didn't want him to hurt her dog. Maybe when she was older, she would have her own dog, and Constance wouldn't be hurt again. They would be happy. She arrived at her home, but something was weird in the kitchen.


Constance was still outside, walking through the people to steal some bills from their pockets. She didn't like doing it, but she knew it was necessary, so she didn't complain. She couldn't wait to have enough bills to run away with her sister, far from this crazy family. Well, her mother wasn't that bad, she seemed to love her maybe, she liked that. She was feeling a bit more important.


She arrived at her home, with a bit excitement, hoping her mother and sister would be both happy to see her. She entered, but no one was in the living-room. Something was weird, like if a bad spirit was there. She slowly walked in her corridor and turned her head to the kitchen. A big red puddle was coloring the ground, with her mother laying down on it, her wrists opened. Jane was on her knees, moving her mother's body, trying to wake her up. The young girl turned her head to her sister, crying.


- "She is hurt," told Jane.


Constance didn't move, not really understanding the situation. She felt her ears buzzing and her muscles getting weak, but she was still standing. She could barely see her sister begging her to do something. She came back to herself, and grabbed Jane's arm to force her to leave the room. She grabbed the phone and called for help. While she was talking with the lady of 911, she saw the knife her mother used to end her life, and hoped Jane didn't see it. She stayed on the phone while keeping an eye on Jane who was in the living-room.


The ambulance arrived and Constance let them enter. They took the girls aside to clean them and ask them questions about the situation, but it was clearly a suicide.


The two girls were waiting in an office of the police station, not really knowing what to do or how to react. Jane was in ball on the armchair, shaking, while Constance was sitting straight next to her, waiting. She didn't cry, she didn't know why.


- "She will come back?" asked Jane.


- "No..."


- "They will save her."


- "Jane, she is dead."


- "NO! You can't say that!" told Jane with tears in her eyes.


- "I'm sorry..."


- "Mom would never abandon us, I know this."


The blonde sister just sighed with her nose. Jane didn't seem to understand the situation, maybe it was better like that. A tall man with an angry face entered the office and sat at the desk in front of them.


- "Why we're here!?" asked Constance.


- "I have some questions for you. First, I'm Jim Hopper, and I'm detective."


- "Hi Jim," smiled Jane.


- "Hi. Now, I'm going to ask you some questions and I want you to answer the most honestly possible, ok?"


The two girls nodded.


- "Good. You're Constance and Jane Garner? Eleven and seven years old? (they nod) Good. Did you ever notice something which could have told you that something was wrong? Mood changes? New habits?"


- "She stopped work," answered Constance."


- "Ok," nodded Hopper. "Something else?"


- "She smelled like dad," added Jane.


- "Like your father? What does he smell?"


- "Alcohol."


- "Ok. (someone enters the office) Something else?"


- "Who's that!?" frowned Constance.


- "She is a doctor, she will examine you," smiled the man.


- "We don't need to be examine!"


- "You have to, it's the procedure."


Jane turned her head to her sister before repeating:


- "It's the procedure."


Like if she wanted her to stop contradicting Hopper. Constance pouted before rubbing her sister's hair. The two girls followed the woman for a check-up. The woman noted lots of bruises on the oldest one and brought it to Hopper's attention. The man could bet there was child abuse in this story; he had to do something to stop that.

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