Short Stories


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NOTE: Story dialogue is written in Jamaican Dialect or Patios,
it is not bad English it is also not using the formal and official Jamaican
Written dialect. This is informal. If you have any concerns contact or
leave a comment. Thank you.

“Got the girl in the room over there.” Pointing down the hall, Sergeant Rich sighed, leaving him, he went to his desk. Looking down the hall, with the book and pen in hand, Johnson went down there with long strides.
Opening the door he did not expect anything. When he looked at the girl, she looked up at him with a flutter of her eyelashes. Expecting is something to relate to, how he could relate to a fifteen-year-old girl arrested in a house filled with dead people.
Mother, older brother, bloodstained skirt and shirt were taken as evidence at the clinic. Wearing a white long coat given to her by the nurse, she seemed uncomfortable as she fidgeted often. She was not physically hurt but she seemed mentally shaken and distraught. He went for the chair on the other side of her.
“My name is Lieutenant Johnson, how are you?” She averted his eyes. Maybe it would be better for a female to talk to her. But Sergeant Vanessa was still on leave. Johnson will try to be as sensitive as possible.
“Forgot how to talk miss?” Trying to lighten the mood.
She looked up at him then averted her eyes quickly. “No, hmmm I am fine…sir.”
“Need anything, water?”
‘Huhh, no.”
“Ok, what is your name miss?”
“So that is the house you live in, the house we found you in?”
She nodded a bit quickly but she agreed with that.
“Ok, I want to talk to you about the event that transpired at your house. Is that ok with you?”
She nodded in the affirmative.
“Try to speak, yes and no please it is important ok?”
She nodded and remembering said, “Yes” with a bit of confidence.
“Ok let us start with you telling us what exactly happened?”
She seemed to stiffen at hearing that, her eyes rolled around as her thought pattern simulated. She gasped as if she lost what she had to say. There she was watching the table intently, her eyes wavered from the enemy.
Johnson waited on her like a pastor waits on the benefits of prayer. How long there were like that had him wondering if she even heard what he asked her. Maybe he should kindly remind her in the next minute.
“Hmm sir….” Johnson looked into her eyes a staggered emotion of despair appeared in her eyes. Was she going to tell him what happened now? From the moment he accosted her at the scene to having her processed he would hear what choice of words this girl could cook up to give him. It must be a grand meal she was preparing for him to have him wait this long.
“ I did not kill them….” That statement rolled off her tongue smoothly but she paused after saying that. Her face twisted into alarm as if that was the wrong thing to say. Johnson showed no emotion or thoughts in his face but his mind raced to certain conclusions by now.
Still, there was a lot of questions left to ask.
“I never asked who killed them I asked what happened?” He needed her to start slowly breaking down this event, since she was at the center of it. The last thing he wanted to do was make her lose confidence and get withdrawn. In her distraught state, anything can happen.
“You know what happened.” she said.
This was interesting, what was she trying to suggest? That was not even a question. Johnson, came forward in the chair, she still stared at him with raging courage.
“Miss you were found in your house holding a bloody knife close to your chest after the police got a 911 call after your younger brother escaped and raised alarm. All occupants of the house are dead. Inclusive of a policeman who is your older brother…”
“Nuh call him my brother, nuh talk about him!” She looked away at that moment.
“Why not?”
She did not answer only swelled up angrily.
“Do you like….Mr….Garth Leon?” Leaning back in his chair, he guessed he might as well ask since he picked up on it. But he also had to wonder if she hated the other victims as well.
“I cannot like someone who touches me everyday….that man is not my brother, please stop calling him that.” It was Johnson’s turn to stiffen, the shock hit him hard. Not sure what question was the best to ask at this point, he breathed out through his nose. But is this why she suggested he knew what happened?
In his repute, this case could become one of the most publicized fiascos. Johnson was cautious now as he was talking to an abuse victim, but he knew how things work with police committing crimes. Some of the higher-ups might brush it under the rug, is there a possibility he was ousted some time ago and never got charged.
If so, she might be holding bad vibes for the police in general. If his conclusions were right Johnson knew this could have been prevented if the higher authority brought him to justice.
“Mr. Leon touched you for how long?”
“Since as long as I can remember.” Returning her eyes at him.
“All those times was it consensual?”
“Consensual….no, no sir.”
Johnson’s eyes focused on her hands fidgeting. “Did he touch you that day?”
“What happened when he touched you that day?”
“His girlfriend catch we.” Johnson swallowed in his mouth.
“Why was she there?”
“She visits often, but a she and him come still. She and my mother do leave out fi go buy something a market.”
“What was he doing during the time they were there?”
“Watching TV with his legs up”
He had a bad feeling asking but he asked anyway.
“After they left what did he do?”
She looked away when he asked that.
“Sex, we were having sex, no….we were about to.” Closing her eyes tightly as if thinking hard on the situation, she grimaced and loosened herself on the chair.
“Clothes were on at the time?”
“So how she catch you, did she not leave?”
“She and my mother come back, them left the key.” Said with a snide frown but he could have sworn he saw a smile if but for a slight second.
“What did she do?”
Bridgette looked at the ceiling and scowled.
“She get angry and start fight him, my mother was crying and arguing with him, she…..him girlfriend….was asking him if him touch fi her children.” She tensed as her mind went deeper into those memories. Pain could be seen in those eyes.
“What happened next?” Johnson felt colder and more colder as the story crept on.
“She hit him and him draw his gun on her.” Making the motions with her hand, she sighed when she finished saying that. Johnson thought this was getting more interesting, the team combed the bodies, no gunshots wounds were found to be on the bodies. As they naturally ruled out Policeman Garth committing a murder-suicide, the gun still had to be tested to ensure it was not fired.
They knew no gunshots were heard in the area, so Johnson wondered what this girl would say to him if he asked. But he would not need to.
“My mother stabbed him, she de a stab him up. Him da a try shoot her me think and she push him down and continue a stab him.”
Johnson watched her closely. “At any point the gun go off?”
“No it did not….sir.”
Johnson twiddled her fingers in earnest but she continued.
“My brother walked In, my mother tell me fi take him out of the room. So the girlfriend run out same time. When I take my brother out of the room, him a try get back in and when me push him back him runaway. Me never follow because me never have on any clothe sir.”
Johnson made note of that information. All of this he wrote down in small notes. She would have to write her own account and sign to that later but this seemed to almost wrap itself together well.
“What happened to your mother?”
“Not sure….”
“She is dead what do you mean not sure?”
“When I walk in….she was dead eno but…..I was outside for so long hearing her cry and calling for god. Me never wha go in, but when me never a hear nothing me go in and see her.”
“The clothes you were wearing?”
“When I was in my room I took some clothes and put them on.”
“How they got so bloody?”
“When I went for the knife.”
“Why would you want the knife?”
Bridgette stared Johnson dead in the eye holding on to the table with both hands. “I wanted to make sure he was dead.”
Johnson squinted at her.
“Was he moving before you took the knife?”
“No, but I wanted to make sure and…..I couldn’t do it, so I sat on the bed and held the knife.”
The pause that came after she said that, had Johnson wondering what was going through her mind. She had been a witness for this madness of a story at least.
“Ok, the girlfriend you know where she lives?”
“Your brother lives with you?”
“You know where your Garth lives?”
Sighing she said, “Yes, him bring me there sometimes.” Johnson looked at her stoic face, he wanted to ask if she probably was assaulted there by her brother but decided against it. He will make a note so the investigators for children abuse can inquire about that.
“Where is my brother?” Johnson saw how her eyes were averting his as she asked, then they shot at him with a sense of sorrow.
“Timothy, he is fine.” She nodded in acknowledgment of that. Johnson breathed in cautiously. “But it is interesting you mention him, he said something different. He said he saw you looking over the dead bodies of Mr. Leon and your mother. He ran and you tried to capture him.”
She shrugged, Johnson peered as her fingers slipped off the table and she sat upright. “Him a five-year-old, him probably no understand what happened.”
Johnson raised his eyebrows and drew out a paper writing something on it.
“We will need you to take us to Garth’s place if you do not mind and give us a description of this woman who he was with.”
“Yes, sir.” Her face seemed tired.
He got up to leave, before closing the door he asked her if she wanted anything. Looking up she tilted her head and said “Just food.”
“Ok, I will be back.”
When he read through his notes, he could not help believing the girl, but there was one problem that could not be shaken. Timothy actually did not mention the girlfriend. For a child to forget a detail like that, it was hard to grasp.
Johnson had a dark feeling Bridgette killed her mother and brother but the younger brother’s account could easily be scrutinized. He probably does not remember or even noticed he did say he was playing in the back of the house. Most of what happened probably breezed right past him until he heard screams.
If she wanted to weave a story to save herself she made the mistake of saying he came in when the girlfriend was supposed to be in the room. So he must have seen her. He would have to ask to speak with the Timothy again but this was looking dismal as far as the culprit.
Johnson would have to wait on the investigator’s and coroner’s report also to piece to together what happened. But no matter how he saw it this girl was already a victim, charges were unlikely to be filed. If the evidence was not strong enough then a jury will not convict her if she seems remorseful enough.
Johnson might as well get her some food, the next weeks will determine this girl’s faith.

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