What the Hart Wants

I will not be okay!
I sat in a stuffy conference room, alone and trying desperately hard to get through this day.
“Okay thank you so much for telling us, but now Agent Jensen will escort you to take the photographs,” Agent Spencers who had sat with me for what seemed like hours going over all that happened today and all the things that have happened for as long as I can remember. He seemed uncomfortable when it came to getting the pictures done, and to be perfectly honest I was thankful for that.
Agent Jensen came in and I felt an immediate relief. She was a woman and a woman would be seeing me more exposed than I would ever care to be in front of a camera. Her lovely shade of blue eyes filled with what appeared to be pity. “This way,” she said leading me out of the room.
“I’m Jessica,” she said, resting an hand on my shoulder as she led me to a back room. The room was bare and uninteresting, holding only a camera on a tripod being the only thing present. “Amanda Buckley said you would feel more comfortable with less people, and I think I understand that. So it will just be you and me, but it would make it a lot easier if you continued being so helpful and do as I say, okay?” though what she said was more or less an order, she said it with a tone that made me comply. This wasn’t easy for anyone and they all seemed to share in the unease of it all.
“I’m going to ask that you lift your hair.” After the first photo things seemed to go quickly. Making it easy but still uncomfortable. Thankfully she didn‘t say anything other than direct me, making it just that much more bearable.
The bruises around my neck were now a dark purple with red surrounding them, while my hip suffered the worse and was still sore and uncomfortable, being a green blotchy softball sized bruise.
Uncle had thrown me into the dresser while tearing the articles of clothes off.
Jessica gave me a sad smile and tried to make this as fast as possible, but that didn’t’ stop it from being uncomfortable.
I had slight scratch marks running down my entire body, most of them gathered in the area of just below my bellybutton. Where he decided to tear instead of unbutton.
Tears swelled in my eyes as the punishment continued on. Though it wasn’t him this time around, people were still going to see more of me than they ought to. This just wasn’t going to end!
“You are a very brave girl.” She gave me privacy as I put on my clothes wishing they were something more comfortable. All the while trying desperately for this day to end.
I ascertained however, that though the day has been quiet bad for me, I wasn’t to badly hurt by my uncles rampage. Mostly just having uncomfortable scratch marks, and two rather painful embarrassing bruises.
Mrs. Buckley was waiting for me outside the door, holding a new coat. “The agents and officers believe that coming home with me will be the best option for you.” She gave me a worried look, trying to get a reaction from me. “Although you may stay here if you would rather. But I figured since I had you start this I would be with you through the whole thing.”
I gave a nod, unable to say anything more. My word count was up.
“Mrs. Buckley, Miss Hart,” a wide football stature dark man said, gaining both our attention. “I’m Agent Devon Moore and I’ll be escorting you lovely ladies home. But till then I would appreciate it if you would once again go and take a seat in the back room, while we process what to do next. Okay?” He had a tender voice, and gave a meek smile as he led us to another back room to sit and wait.
The room had several chairs and a window to the conference room the Agents were in. They all seem to be talking about something pretty passionately.
Agent Spencers seemed to be trying to make a point but Agent Dotchner, his captain I had briefly met seemed to be set on something different entirely.
“You know my boys and I would play a game when we were put in a situation like this one,” Mrs. Buckley tried to gain my attention.
“A situation like this one?” I some how voiced. Wishing immediately I hadn’t. Talking seems only to get me into trouble.
“Okay maybe not closely similar to this one, but where we were left out of the conversation and were able to see so clearly that they were speaking.” I gave a nod, and after giving me a sad smile she continued on. “Well the game is very simple. We each chose someone to voice and be their voice. Take Agent Dotchner, ‘I will not allow the pink elephant fly to the moon. It is impossible and reprehensible and completely wrong.’ “ She stopped speaking as Agent Dotchner did, a smile on her face as she clearly had caused on mine. “And then there’s Agent Jensen, ‘But sir, surely there are--’, Well that’s just rude, she didn’t even get to comment more so.”
I tried to stifle the laughter bubbling out. “Why would anyone so serious talk about a pink elephant?”
“You’ll just have to ask Agent Dotchner, now won’t you,” she said with a smile, before starting to let her own laugh bubble out in joyous chuckles.
I couldn’t stop myself as I chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. But I was starting to be grateful for her idiot game and for her. She was here when she could be home, with her own kids.
She could have let Pastor Peters get me instead of lying. But she didn’t .
“Well it’s a good thing to see you two laughing,” Agent Moore said, a smile on his lips. “Are you ready?”
Mrs. Buckley took a breath to control herself still unable to stop her wide smile, “Thank you Agent Moore.”
He gave us a wink and a light chuckle before leading us to his plain black SUV. But as I left I felt uncomfortable, as if being watched again. This only caused me to lean in more to Mrs. Buckley.
Mrs. Buckley gave me a kind smile, and wrapped her arm around me. Her warm eyes expressing a loving sadness, that oddly enough made me feel better.
“I will be staying here watching and making sure nothing comes for you.” He gave another wink and Mrs. Buckley led me to the back house.
Mr. Buckley was waiting for us. His expression very grim as he took in our appearance. “Amanda may I speak to you?”
“What is it James?” her body tensed up and she seemed to on the verge of panic. “Is it Mason?”
“No,” he said quickly, his tone soft. “No it‘s not Mason.” She gave a sigh of relief. Mr. Buckley eyed me curiously, “No but it has to do with the school.” This time it was my turn to tense.
“What is it? What happened?” I asked, once again breaking my word count but something felt off. Something felt painful deep in my core. Something seemed to be wrong and now I finally had a hint to what it could be.
“A student has gone missing.”