That Night

The police couldn’t pin anything on us. I was with Dad at the time, and he was with me. There was a suicide note. We’d done nothing. I was angry that they even brought us here. Do you think a pregnant teenager and a sorrowful father would kill their own mother/wife? Losing a daughter had been a big struggle. But losing another family member had devastated us, why would we do it in purpose? What more clues did they need to prove to them we had nothing to do with my mother’s death?

I sat down on the seat, opposite the police woman. This was like what happens in films. We were getting recorded, and behind the mirror there probably was someone watching us.
“So where were you when all this happened? Tell me from the very beginning.” The police lady asked. So I did. I started from when she shaved herself bald from not being able to handle stress well, then skipped a few years from when I found out I was pregnant. I told her about Kyra, and her sudden recovery at the funeral. So far Kylie, (the police woman) had listened without disrupting me. Dad just looked straight ahead, staring at the wall. Every word I said probably was hurting him deep inside.

“You mention anything to her when you noticed her peculiar behavior at Kyra’s funeral?” Kylie interrupted me.
“I didn’t think anything of it.” I glance at Dad, who was still staring straight ahead. “I-I-I” I stuttered, and then burst into tears. I only then realized that I was hoping they had made a mistake, the Mum was alive somewhere and that was another woman. But they had been right. It hit me then that you won’t have a grandmother, Dad just lost the one he has loved all his life, and may never love again. Mum won’t ever come back. Never will be able to help me through my love life, won’t come back for your birth, for my marriage, not for anything.

Dad finally spoke up. He cleared his throat, and then said,
“I think it would be best if we left now. I think we’ve done enough today. Is it possible I come alone next time?”
The police woman looked between me and Dad and then nodded. She led the way out, thanked us for coming and co-operating. She then looked me in the eye and said,
“Things will get better soon, believe me.” I didn’t believe her. I had every right not to. And you know what? She was very wrong.