Wonderwall

I looked down at the piece of paper I held in my shaking hand, reading it over and over again to myself in my head.

4 PM, Friday, November 13th at the Tangerine Police Station
See Robert Higgins for debriefing

4 PM on Friday; 25 minutes from now; would be the date that would determine the rest of my life. Or, so it seemed to me at the time.

"Alexa, it's going to be fine," my mother assured me, noticing my shaking hands and taking one of them into hers. I declined her embrace, putting the hand she'd tried to hold into my left coat pocket.

We rode in silence the rest of the way to the station, my nervous chestnut eyes gazing out my passenger window, my mother's solid blue ones fixated on the drive ahead. I knew she loved me, or at least I had a genuine hope that she did, but ever since my father died I'd always felt that a part of my mother died with him; the part that I needed most.

As we pulled up to the station, Detective Higgins, or Rob, as I'd most recently known him, was waiting for us outside, a smile filled with false warmth upon his handsome face. Tangerine, New York was a small town upstate, filled with wealth, facades, and all the drama that went along with it. Despite the fact that my mother had become one of the wealthiest women in town when my father died, and despite the fact that I'd been dating the detective's son, Jonathan, I had been lucky enough to avert said drama; until now.

"Alexa, sweetie, how are you feeling?" greeted detective Rob as he eyed the bruises on my face. He shook my hand more firmly than comfortable and before I could even reply, he began leading me inside the station.

I pushed a lock of golden waves in front of my eyes in an attempt to hide the bruising, but there was no use; nothing could completely hide the damage that had been done to me this time. I started to speak, but it soon became evident that I wasn't going to get a word in. I turned to look for my mother, but it seemed she was being distracted by a couple officers still outside.

"Are you hungry?" began Rob again, seemingly uninterested in my answer to his rhetorical question. "We've got plenty of food for you in this debriefing room."

"I'm really not-" I started, but again, I was cut off.

"There's coffee too, and a couch. We're almost there," he continued, practically dragging me towards the back of the station. We'd already passed quite a few empty interview rooms, and I was now beginning to doubt whether or not this was really a debriefing.

We finally arrived at the room which Rob had led me to; it had no windows and was dimly lit with a small couch, one chair, and a rickety table with a plate of doughnuts and a pot of black coffee. It seemed to be a quasi break room, but could really only house about four people. Rob motioned for me to take a seat on the couch, and he too sat in the chair seated directly across from me. He poured himself a cup of coffe and leisurely took a sip, leaning back and making himself at home.

It was silent for a moment, and my palms grew moist. What was this? An interrogation? This did not seem professional by any means; my mother wasn't present and I didn't see any cameras. Finally, Rob spoke.

"You're a smart girl," he began, the same uninviting smile on his lips as he'd displayed earlier. "And I'm no dummy either. I've been the only competent detective on this force for the last ten years, and I'm clearly not going anywhere. And with that title comes power, and a lot of pull."

I swallowed my tongue. "Rob," I started.

"Detective Higgins," he quickly corrected with authority. "When I'm in uniform you refer to me as Detective Higgins, Alexa. I'm still your friend, but there's an order of things."

I stayed silent, letting him speak.

"Anyways, I truly am sorry that you were a victim of violence," he began, almost mechanically. "It's very unfortunate that you didn't see who did that to you, and I'm deeply sorry to have to put you through something as pointless as a lineup when you didn't even see your attacker; the force even has the nerve to throw Jonny in there, just because you two are dating! Just be the smart girl I know you are, and after today, everything will go back as it was." Rob looked me in the eyes as he said this, and I'd never seen his eyes as dark as I did just then.

I swallowed hard again. Did he know what had happened Friday? I fought the urge to scream. I hated this; this room, this town, this life, this situation that I was in. I used to love Jonathan; or I thought I did. Maybe for a glimpse of a second, I had just loved the idea of him. It started out as innocent as could be. He had offered to carry a bag of groceries to my car for me, and I'd accepted. After that, I had started seeing him everywhere; the grocery store, the library, the gas station, the mall... I'd even seen him coming out of the tanning place once, oddly enough. After many coincidental small-town run-ins, he'd finally asked me out on a date and I'd said yes - and from then on, it was us 24/7.

The first couple months we were inseparable. We'd went on countless dates and he knew my schedule like the back of his hand, and it was adorable; or so it seemed at the time. Yet while we were dating, Johnny was slowly but surely making calculated changes in my life. He'd continued to hint at me to quit my, "silly waitress job," calling it demeaning and lowbrow. He'd always added that he could easily pay my bills and take care of me and that my working was pointless. Although my gut told me not to do it, I finally gave in. I guess I was living out some sort of fairytale in my mind and for once, and I liked it. When he'd suggested I lighten my hair a bit, I went along with it. As my hair got blonder and blonder each salon visit, I'd paid no mind. If he wanted me to wear a certain dress, I'd let him put me in it; he was buying, after all. Four months and a plethora of shoes, clothes, bags, trips, and dates later was when I finally woke up from my fairytale dream to realize that I was actually living out my very own real-life nightmare.

The coincidental small-town run-ins were not coincidences at all. Jonathan was literally obsessed with me. Furthermore, he had picked me out as his own personal real-life Barbie doll. And the sickest part: the whole town was loving it, not that this should have come as a surprise. My mother was the biggest fan of all, bragging to all of her friends how she had gotten the chance to borrow her daughter's next-season Louboutins, and how her kid was that gorgeous blonde dating the detective's rich son. We already had our own wealth thanks to my deceased father, may he rest in peace, and I'd never needed nor wanted anyone else's charity; but it wasn't until our four month anniversary that I realized just how huge of a mistake I'd made.

We were at dinner in the city, having sushi and drinks despite the fact that we were both underage; it was true that having the right connections can get you virtually anything. It had come time for us to exchange gifts; ironically, I'd bought him a watch with the money in my account that he was providing me with. His gift to me was a beautiful Tiffany chain engraved with the letter J, for Jonathan. As gorgeous as the necklace was, he knew I couldn't accept it. We'd had this conversation time and time again about necklaces; I wore a locket my father had given me weeks before he died, and I'd never taken it off since. Nothing could replace it, especially something with Jonny's name on it; I wore it every day, and it was one of the only things I still had of my father, and of my identity now... and Jonny knew that. He had controlled practically everything in my life for the past four months, and this final attempt to rid me of the last thing that kept me myself was unacceptable. We'd gotten in a huge argument over it, and he'd ripped the locket off my neck, breaking it. That night was also the first time he'd hit me. It was just a slap, but he'd raised his hand to me nonetheless. We returned to Tangerine, and he'd gotten the locket fixed, but three more times in the future, each worse than the time before, led up to this very moment, where I sat, wide eyed and palms sweaty, desperately trying to find the words... any words, to leave my scabbing lips.

"Alexa." Rob's rough tone interrupted my memories. I wasn't sure how long I'd been sitting silent, and I just noticed that a tear had managed to escape from my bruised eye.

"Can I speak now?" I finally said, abruptly wiping it away and regaining my composure.

"I really don't think there's much to-"

"Actually, there is," I retorted, regaining my confidence. "Like you said, I'm a smart girl. I can tell there aren't any cameras in here, and I know no one else is listening in on this conversation, so I think we can both be adults about this and address the pink elephant in the room."

Rob looked like he'd been hit in the face. "I'm impressed," he admitted, taking a chocolate frosted doughnut from the table and biting down roughly. "Go on."

I gulped. Was he really going to make me say it out loud? "We both know what I'm talking about," I stated, keeping my confidence as high as possible.

"Well clearly, we don't Miss Harris, so why don't you enlighten me?" He was licking his lips, mimicking a Disney villain with the way his eyes narrowed as he spoke.

I took a deep breath. "Your son is the person who did this to me."

I expected a rebuttal, or comfort, or something other than what I got. Rob simply laughed; coldly, and loudly.

"Are you laughing at me?" I demanded, becoming irritated.

"Doesn't it look like I'm laughing?" he replied, finishing his doughnut.

"Well, stop it!" I exclaimed, standing from my chair. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Rob finished his giggle fit, looking up at me. "Feisty, all of a sudden? Maybe this sort of attitude would have served you well when my son was kicking your ass the other night. A little fight could do you well. It won't do you well if you're trying to argue with me though; naturally, he's going to get away with it. But next time he hits you, maybe try hitting back."

I was in shock. My ears were ringing and my face was hot, and my vision was blurring because of the tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn't believe what had just happened, but my brain kept telling me that it had. Before I knew what I was doing, I was running out the door, out of the station, and away from everything. I could hear my mother's voice following me out, and the voices of police officers, but everything was all a blur. I didn't know where I was running to or what I was going to do next; all I knew was that I had to get away from here.

Notes