My reflection looked back at me like a tortured soul. Eyes of someone who had felt true pain. Something was different inside me, I was broken. My head was scattered across endless open fields of my psyche. I just wanted to die. This was my fault, it was my responsibility to keep her safe. I looked down at my hands and just stared.
"You have nice hands," Angie said as we walked through the park. She gave the nicest compliments. I turned to look at her. She was so beautiful. She had nice features, and a good body, everything about her was perfect.
"Thank you," I replied. "I love the feel of yours too." She squeezed my hand. I could tell she was blushing a bit out of the corner of my eye. She turned to me and smiled. She let go of my hand, to hold my face as we kissed. Soft lips, a small embrace, and my whole world got bright. It always happened this way. She was the only person in existence to me. Words cannot describe the affection we had for each other. Life was good. Back then.
"Vince. Okay Vince, come on." Donnie Strong was waving his hand in my face. I hated this man. More than I had ever hated someone.
"Jesus man, give him a break. Sit down." Daniel spoke. I liked Daniel a lot more. Always had. Daniel was a very well-respected member of this county, ever since his heroic actions back when Jamie Weller was on his famous homicide spree. But we'll get to that later. "Vincent, I know all of this is hard for you to hear and understand. Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I said. "I'm great." And I understood this fully well. I don't need you telling me what I do and don't understand, Daniel.
"Angie Foster was attacked at around 3:47 A.M. today. Not too long ago." Daniel started. He brushed his stubble with his hand and continued. "She was struck in the face by two others, but only sexually assaulted by one."
My hands clenched into fists under the table. I wanted to kill someone.
"How bad," I asked, not wanting to know the answer.
"She has a slight concussion, along with torn skin tissue around the area of entry." He said. Which made things much worse for me. I stopped myself from crying. "There's something else. That I should mention."
"What..." I said, which made him clutch the table and wince, almost like he was in pain. We all were. He shook his head.
"We don't know what it was yet, but she had some sort of object inserted into her, repeatedly." He reluctantly told.
I couldn't breathe again. I grabbed my hair and wanted to pull until the skin of my scalp no longer existed. My teeth pressed together as I began to cry again. Not making any sounds, or letting my face distort too much. I threw up on the ground. They expected this. Daniel got up and patted me on the back a few times. I looked at my reflection again, and it looked different than before. My hair hung in my face, and my eyes were half open, almost in a Kubrick-style way. There were tears, but I was not crying anymore. When he sat back down, I looked at Daniel and his partner with a blank, but hateful expression.
"Who did it," I asked. They both looked at each other like they had been hiding the worst part from me. Which they were. I started breathing heavily. "Who. Did. It." They now had worried expressions again.
"Vincent. This is going to hit you the hardest." Donnie said. Oh, please. I thought. Nothing could make this any worse.
"It was someone you are well acquainted with." Said Daniel. My heart stopped again. And yet again, I couldn't breathe. Oh my god. I think I was on the verge of another attack.
"The person who attacked and assaulted Angie Foster," Daniel said. I braced myself. But nothing could prepare me. "Was Regan Vantse."
My breathing got heavy, but I started to lose hearing again.
"Vincent?"
"Vissent?"
"V..nce..?"
I lost myself. I picked up the small metal chair I had been sitting on, and swung it. The chair flew across the room, shattering the mirror/window that had been there. I screamed like a caged animal. Both officers backed up towards the door. I flipped the table over and pounded my fists on the ground. I saw something truly depressing when I saw Daniel's face again for a split second. He was crying. Daniel Ascher, with no remorse for over a dozen felons he had shot dead in his career, was crying while watching a sixteen-year-old boy break down.
The room had been torn apart. Everything was broken or shattered. I had cuts all over my body from the broken glass, and where the metal chair cut my forearm. Screaming all sorts of profanity, I was finally apprehended by two other officers and taken out of the room. They all understood what I was going through, but needed to get me out. I passed out in the arms of Donnie Blake, who I hated a lot.
When I woke up, I was laying in a hospital room. Mayland County had one of the best hospitals in the state, which was a proven fact. I was just coming to when I saw my brother's face appear in the corner of my eye. I instantly felt a wave of relief come over me. We smiled, then mine disappeared. I felt pressure on my wrists, almost like a hospital bracelet that was put on too tight. But it wasn't. They were handcuffs. Restraining me to the bed.
"What the fuck is this," I said, rhetorically. I shook my arms, rattling the white metal bed, and getting the attention of Donnie outside the room. He looked behind him through the checkered window and got out of his chair. He walked into the room with his hands on his hips, something I also hated very much. There was nothing about this guy that I didn't hate.
"Someone's up earlier than expected!" He said. With every word this man said, my hatred rapidly increased. He chuckled. "God, that was one hell of a freak-out."
Anthony gripped the bed, and I could clearly see the veins in his hand and arm. He was angry at this comment. I didn't care as much, but it was still annoying. But whatever.
"Hey, hey. Just trying to lighten the mood." He replied. I shook the bed violently this time, the metal frame bending and handcuffs cutting deep into my wrists. I didn't even feel the pain at that moment. Donnie backed up with his hands in the air like he was going to be arrested.
"Do not try to make light of this," I said, in a tone of voice I didn't even know I could use. "You get to go home to your wife, all safe and sound. Do not make jokes." Anthony was smiling watching me. I was just like him.
"Listen up, dipshit. I know this is hard for you, but I'm just trying, okay? I am very sorry for what happened, but I'm just trying to help." He said, sternly. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Maybe.
I lay back down and sighed. I tried to run my hand through my hair but was unable to due to the now bloodstained handcuffs on my wrists. Donnie walked out and shut the door. Anthony sat back down beside the bed and sighed as well.
"I told Dad." He said. "He was heartbroken to hear. I was worried that he'd have another heart attack or something, he can't handle these things you know."
"I know. You shouldn't have. Everyone will find out eventually, and I'm sure they won't say all the details." I turned to him. Dark circles under his eyes, and looking like he hadn't slept in weeks. It had only been a few hours though. I probably looked the same, only more like an insane asylum patient.
"Vince, about that too. She's at this hospital you know." He said. My heart dropped. I looked at him with wider eyes than ever before.
"I need to see her. I don't care what it takes, please help me." I pleaded. "Anton, please." He had a soft look in his eyes. He scanned the room and nodded.
"Okay. First, let's get rid of our friend outside."