Unfinished Business

Abby is the kind of girl who keeps to herself. This year, her senior year, everything changes, when her worst enemy, Nicole, decides to play with her old tricks again. Abby has shut that part out of her life completely. Or so she thought. Do you think she has what it takes to make it out alive in time to graduate? Or will she crumble? just like the last time it all happened.

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7. (Casey; one year ago)

“What happened!?” It’s all that I can seem to think of to say when I burst through the big, metal doors of the down town police station. The inside of this big building is just as lifeless and dull as the outside with its grey walls and emotionless policemen sitting at their not so decorated desks. I don’t remember anyone greeting me when I first walked in so I assume that I yelled this, suddenly, by all the looks that are sent my way as if I were crazy. Thankfully both my parents were sitting close by with some police officer, who I assume knows the whole story. They talk in hushed tones as if the information they hold is top secret and they wave me over to where they are sitting.
“Why don’t you sit down? You want some coffee? A cookie? Anything?” My mother says in the tone of hers that she uses sometimes to calm me down. She gestures for me to sit down next to my father but I push her arms off me fast.
“I don’t want anything to eat. I don’t want to sit down. What I want is for someone to tell me what the Hell happened to my brother.” I look at all the different faces around me, hoping that one will tell me what has happened in the past couple hours that my brother and I just so happen to be apart but, yet, no such luck. I look deep into my mother’s eyes and only see agony. Her lips tremble as if she is trying her hardest to hold back many tears, and my father isn’t even looking in my direction. He looks over at a pile of papers scattered across a random desk as if they are so interesting at a time like this. This worries me deeply. I don’t understand how something so bad could happen in just a couple of hours. The last time I saw him he was headed over to Brittney’s house, his girlfriend, and I was headed over to a sleepover down the road. Brittney’s house is also only a couple of minutes away so it’s not as if he could have gotten into any trouble on the way there. Right?
I take a deep, semi-calming breath to try and ease my tension a little, and even though it doesn’t really do much, I can now talk in an almost even tone without freaking out everyone in the whole building.
“Can someone please just tell me what happened?” I say, low and as polite as possible. I watch as the policeman glances over at my mother and she, being so upset that no words come out, just nods telling him that he is ok to continue. He hesitates before speaking, but continues anyways.
“Well, we don’t know much,” he starts off, but for some reason I interrupt him abruptly.
“Just tell me what you know,” I say, and he just looks at me with a glare, “Sorry, habit.” He continues talking again.
“We don’t know much. The only information that we can tell you is that we got a call from nearby their house saying that they could hear what sounded to be muffled screaming and when we got there, he, your brother, was passed out in a bed in one of the bedrooms.”
“Muffled screaming?” I ask more to myself than to anyone else.
“He was screaming but it sounded like someone was trying to cover is mouth or he was restrained.” The policeman answered.
“Wait. That doesn’t even add up. So one minute he was screaming and the next he was asleep? What the hell?” I say, feeling my voice rising once again.
“The caller called us at,” he glances down at the papers in his hands, “around 12:15, and we got there at around 12:40.”
“12:40? Really? What the Hell took you guys so long. He could have been dead in those twenty-five minutes that you weren’t there. What is wrong with this system!” I can see everyone is looking at me again and I have taken a step close to the policeman as if I were attempting to intimidate him. I take a step back and breathe deeply, knowing that my intimidation technique probably would not have ended well in this case.
“The caller never gave us an address, so we had to trace the call and that takes some time to do when one is rushing themselves.” The policeman says to me, “We just took a drug test from him, so hopefully that will give us some answers as to how he passed out.”
“Yeah, hopefully.” I say and then there is silence when the policeman leaves to continue with his work. I continue to stand and wait for something, anything, new to happen.
“Does anyone want something to eat?” My dad asks my mom and me after the silence continued. He always does that. It’s as if he believes that food is the answer in times of crisis, and then there is the fact that this is a tough time and it’s his way of saying that he wants to get some air.
“I guess I’m hungry.” I’m not really hungry, but I can tell that he does want some air so I let him go and soon he is off to the gas station to get food, leaving it just me and my mother, alone.
The next ten minutes are agonizing and slow as we both wait for my dad and the test results to come back. I keep asking to see my brother but all I get is a “no.” My dad eventually comes back with a big bag of random food and hands each of us something to hold us over. I get a grilled cheese sandwich and a sweet Arizona tea, my favorites, and I nibble every now and then on my sandwich until I see that the policeman is walking back over to us and hold new information, and then I quickly set my food and drink down and wait impatiently for him. I instantly speak before he even has a chance to say anything.
“Well!? What do the test results say?” I ask, urgent, and he just gives me that look that says for me to be quiet again.
“He definitely had drugs in his systems and this drug definitely makes a person pass out, and only after a couple of hours at that. The good thing is that we didn’t find any bruises or cuts or scratches anywhere on his body so it looks highly possible that nothing happened after he was drugged.” I don’t remember anything he says after that, because I zone out a little due to some shock of this recent news, until he taps me on the shoulders and I zone back to his words.
“What?” I ask.
“He said that he wanted to see you.” He repeats and I hesitate, looking over at my mother.
“Go sweetie. Make sure he is all right.” She says, sensing my worry. I slowly start walking and the policeman guides me to the room.
“He’s in here and also still high off of the drugs that he was given so be easy on him.” He says, as he motions to the door that I now stand in front of and gives me a condescending look. I don’t walk in a first. I just stand there, facing the door, and I try to think of what I will possibly find once I open this door but nothing comes to mind. This has never happened to me. Heck, this has never happened to Alex either, and yet, here we are in this police station at around one or two in the morning. Tears are building up just under my eyes and I want to collapse right then and there, but I know that I can’t. I push them back down to the pit of my belly as best I can and take deep breaths before entering.
I single tear slips out and rolls down my cheek as I open the door. The tiny chair and table that were once upright are now flipped over and lying against the wall as if they were thrown there out of anger, and Alex lays against the far wall, hugging is legs up to his chest as tight as possible as if he is protecting himself from something. I push the tears back once again as rush over to his side in panic.
“Alex!” I say while running across the room and letting the door slam shut behind me. He mumbles something that is incoherent to me so I ignore it. “Alex! Are you ok?! What the Hell happened?!” His face is red and puffy as if he has been crying recently when he lifts his head up out of his legs and looks at me. He face brightens a little, but only so much, when he sees me right at his side.
“Casey?” he says, confused.
“Yes, it’s me, your sister, Casey. I’m here, Alex. I’m here.”
“I didn’t do anything. I promise. I didn’t do anything. It wasn’t my fault.”
“What wasn’t your fault, Alex?”
“Brittney…” His sentence drones out and I don’t hear the end.
“What about Brittney. What did she do to you? Alex?”
“I didn’t do anything.” As I look into his eyes, I see that he is starting to cry again. I force myself around him in a hug, without warning, to try and sooth him, but I know that it won’t help much.
“I know you didn’t do anything. But what did Brittney do to you? Where is she? Do you know where she is?” I ask him, urgent to get some answers.
“We were….” He drones the sentence out again.
“You were what, Alex?” I ask him, trying to help him get the answers out.
“We were playing video games and then…” His head falls in his lap as he runs the memory away.
“Please, Alex. What happened next? Please! Try your best to remember.” He looks up at me but I can see that he is trying to remember. It takes him a minute or two to reply.
“We were in her room…” He drones out once again, but I can take a good guess as to what they were doing. They were making out most likely, but I know Alex. He wouldn’t have gone any farther. He isn’t that kind of guy.
“You didn’t have sex did you?” he shakes his head. “Alex, please try to remember.” I say.
“I said no to sex and then she got mad.” So many things run through my head at that sentence. She could have done so many things. She drugged him and then got what she wanted. She raped him, I just know it.
“Everything after that is a big blur. The next thing I remember is being in this room. I don’t even remember getting in the cop car or even seeing the cops face.”
“Well, the good thing is that you are safe now.” I say.
“But Brittney…” He starts.
“What about her? She’s gone right? I am never letting you alone with her ever again. I am so sorry. This is my fault.” I ramble on.
“I don’t remember what I was going to say… This isn’t over.” He says. It isn’t over?
“What isn’t?”
“What?” He is confused now.
“You said ‘it isn’t over’. What do you mean?”
“I never said that.”
“Yes… never mind.” I give up, knowing that my interrogation won’t work with a heavily drugged teenager. He isn’t saying anything half way intelligent to anything I say now so I leave him in the small room after a good hour or so of talking and my parents and I make our way back home in silence. Neither of them even asks me what my brother and I talked about during that hour I was in there. They don’t even look me in the eyes, because they don’t want to know the truth. All they want to know is that Alex is going to be ok and that is what I like about my parents the most, the fact that we have freedom. But sometimes freedom is a bad thing. Sometimes I would have liked it better if my parents had said no.
But I know one thing is for sure. Alex is never going to be able to walk away from this and he needs me more than ever right now and until he tells me to back off, and probably not even then, I am not going to leave his side.

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