Mute.

She couldn't have been more than thirteen. With black hair tied up in a loose knot, she pulled her knobby knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her small feet on the chair. A grey cardigan hung loosely off of her shoulders, obviously too big on the tiny girl. The room was quiet aside from the small clicking noises as she picked her nails.

Missing persons, runaways, kidnappings, none of the descriptions seemed to match the mute girl and unless she decided to speak up, our hands were tied. Nothing much we could do. I walked into the room holding a glass of water, a few selections of soda, and some snack foods. The look in her eyes was so full of sorrow; I could actually feel my heart sinking. Awfully similar to the feeling you get when you see those commercials about puppies with two legs and emaciated, skeletal cats. Being new on the force, I wasn't really used to the heavy stuff. The real stuff. I was uncertain of how I was supposed to feel; I was certain, however, that I wanted to help the girl. I wanted to find whoever put that sad blue into her eyes.

I sat with her for hours. Silence, aside from the nail picking. Every so often she would look at me, and look away real quick like she wasn't sure she was allowed. I must have offered her the snacks a million times. At offer one-million-and-one, she ceded. With shaking hands, she reached for the glass of water and sipped it slowly.

We sat like that for hours, in silence. I wasn't going to let the girl go unnoticed; I wouldn't let them throw her into the foster system. Her blue eyes were too sorrowful, too innocent. After eight hours, she finally spoke.

"Thank you for sitting with me," she said in a voice like a bird's song. I was shocked; I think I physically jumped a little, to be honest. Her voice was even smaller than I had expected.

"No problem. Would you like to talk about what happened?" She winced, curling further into herself. I simply looked at her; I didn't want to push her.

"Not really," She closed her eyes, turning to the window. I didn't move; I sat with my hands clasped in front of me, focusing on her. She turned her gaze back to me; she looked down, then lifted her chin, licking her lips before speaking, "I used to live in foster homes. Bounced around a lot, never really had a real place to stay, you know? Then suddenly, I was being adopted. By a real nice family," She dropped her feet to the floor, putting both palms to the tabletop. She took a long breath, straightening her spine and lengthening her neck. "I thought I had something really good going," She flipped her palms up, like 'you know what I mean?' and her voice cracked on a sob, tears trickling down her cheeks. "And then," she paused, trying to keep her composure, "Then he took me," She was speaking through her teeth, fingers curling in anger. She looked me directly in the eyes, "Held me for three years. Raped me every. single. day. And then one day, he made a mistake. Tied my ropes too loose or somethin'. And I ran. and ran. and ran. And now I'm here." Tears were brimming in my eyes. "What am I supposed to do? Is there even such a thing as a happy family anymore?"

"Listen to me," I said, cupping the girl's bony hands in my own, willing her to pay attention to my words, "I will find this man. I will put him away for years upon years and then I will find you a home. A perfect home. I will make sure that you are happy; you will be loved."

Three years later, I'm signing adoption papers for my beautiful sixteen year old girl, police chief, and happier than I ever imagined I could be.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

A tragedy with a surprise ending, well written, concise, sympathetic ..

You write in imaginative but precise sentences, not quite 'snappy' but, to the point. Your police-man becomes as vital to the story as the girl, both building in geniune strength and clarity that makes them very real. The long paragraph about what happened to the lass is so sad and sensitivly written, shocking though it is.

'I sat' then next para followed by 'We sat' slightly jarred, there could be an alternative .. but that's an insignificant spot in a very fine story.

'"Thank you for sitting with me," she said in a voice like a bird's song. I was shocked; I think I physically jumped a little, to be honest. Her voice was even smaller than I had expected.' That made me gasp - hints at the tragic details to come.