BLESSED BONDS

It’s been 3 days — Being kept inside white walls, paint chipping here and there. There was a particularly big rip courtesy of my jittery hands since claustrophobia was starting to kick in and I was slowly losing my goddamn mind. Hearing distant tapping of approaching footsteps broke me out from another episode of peeling the walls bare. I sat up from the severely used foam made into a poor excuse of a bed on the floor. Staring straight, I welcomed my ward with an oh-so-innocent smile through rusty old steel bars. In response, the man in blue uniform scoffed out an awful sound directed towards little-inmate-me. Rude. “I already told you to stop peeling the walls like a Christmas wrapper, kid.” I didn't pay mind to his awful grumbling, too busy focusing on his hands fumbling the locks with his keys, unlocking them. I shoot straight up to my feet, feeling my smile growing wider that it started to make my cheeks ache. “Am I free to go?” He rolled his eyes at my excitement. Can he really blame me? I was basically rotting in this place. “Face here and hands out.” The officer entered the cell, readying his metal cuffs. I did as ordered, happily even. Watching as he snapped those bracelets on my wrists and good thing I looked good in silver. “It’s about time my bail was approved.” I said, being pushed to start walking out of that small hellhole. Fully expecting I was getting out of here, I was quite taken aback when I was led to another room instead of the doors out of this place. The confusion was clear on my face. Why was I back in an interrogation room, again? “This is the last time we’re going to ask you for your information.” Another officer was there, hands crossed as he narrowed his eyes at me. The ward pulled out a chair and pushed me down to it before proceeding to lock my cuffs to the table. Fucking hell. I held down curses from leaving my lips, slumping to the chair back as I rolled my eyes at them. “And this is the last time I will tell you it’s Rue Copper.” Hissing out the name for how many times these past few days. A deep long sigh came from the interrogating officer. “I meant your real information. Not the one on your fake ID. You don't even look like your past 20, kid. Let alone 28 like it said so on here.” He threw something on the table. It slid towards me and I was looking down at one of the many fake IDs I owned. “Nice picture of me there, huh?” Snickering softly, I went to lean back on my chair. “It’s not my fault I have an awfully cute baby face, officer.” My self praise only got grumbling and a click of a tongue from them. It’s been 3 days since they were trying to get something out of me. It’s also been 3 days since I’ve been giving them no f***s. “Isn’t this unlawful captivity already? I’ve been in jail for the past few days because I beat someone in a bar fight. I’m pretty sure that only warrants 1 night behind bars.” Stating in a matter of fact tone didn’t convince anyone in this place, unfortunately. The glare I got only made me want to push more buttons. “You broke the other girl’s nose and jaw. The medics didn’t see any resemblance she used to have that was on her ID. Hell, even her own sister didn’t recognize her on her hospital bed. That’s not considered self defense anymore. That was retaliation!” “Hey!” I barked. “She threw the first hit! And there were more than five of them. What was I supposed to do? Wait on you guys who were taking their sweet time cruising before responding to what you expected was a petty cat fight? Bullshit. I defended myself fair and square, man.” Trying to prove my point by crossing my arms was a failure since they were cuffed to the table, making me frustratingly shake them. “Look, my friend is already trying to bail me. Why are we all even still hung up on this s**t. You’re refusing my human rights to get out of this man made hell.” Expecting another argument, I was prepared to bullshit my way out of this. Not a thick folder slapped on the table. I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent any reaction to show on my face at the familiar name written in bold on the side of the folder. Fuck FUCK. I needed to get the f**k out of here. Stat. The screech of the chair being pushed back made me instantly look away from the file. The officer who had been a complete ass ever since he caught me the other night pounding on another chic’s face, stood up and made his way close enough to flip open the documents. “We spent hours trying to find you in our systems. You’ve obviously given us a fake alias and your prints didn’t match anyone in this country. I don’t know how you did that but when we got the results of your blood work back, we were able to narrow it down to a few candidates.” “Blood work?” I was able to squeeze out. Didn’t even notice I was already holding my breath. “Got it from your bloodied shirt.” He waved his hand, “At first we were skeptical, we even kept skipping the same file because there was no resemblance whatsoever between you and her at all. Well, physically that is.” Now, this is a cop. Intimidating and too f*****g resourceful for no reason aside from ruining my f*****g day. My fists balled, nails digging so hard they were starting to tremble. I couldn’t even try to hide them because of these stupid cuffs! The change of my demeanor caught their attention, of course. Confident to proceed. “This file belongs to a missing person. A runaway girl, four years ago. Ran out of her parents home at the age of barely 18. Normally, these types of files would be shrugged off since it doesn’t involve minors anymore.”, just stop talking — please, “You know, just a stupid kid thinking like they’re already adults ready to take on the world. The only thing that keeps this case afloat is the yearly raise of the reward to anyone who can give information or much better, find her.” Okay, I need to shut this down. “And? What’s that got to do with me?” I did my best poker face like my life depended on it. It was, in fact actually. There was a knock on the door, effectively breaking the tension building up in here. A man in a coat entered. Glasses doing a slight glare from the harsh fluorescent lights. He made his way towards me, a hand outstretched. “William Cole. You can call me Will. I am a private investigator.” My blood ran cold. Too stunned I didn’t even move to shake his awaiting hand. I was too busy shitting my pants. A private f*****g investigator. What am I gonna do?! Calm down, calm down, don’t let it show, i***t! I was repeating it in my head like a mantra. “Well, then.” Will — cleared his throat awkwardly, dropping his hand as he pulled a chair out to sit next to me. “Shall we proceed?” He started laying the spreadsheet that was in the folder across the table. “Look, I have no idea what this has got to do with m—” “Morana Cordelia Sinclair.” He cut me mid-sentence, eyes pointed at me, “Born February 14th. She’d be 22 this year. From her previous records: 5’2, black hair, dark brown eyes, pale skin.” He states, “Does she look familiar to you?” He directed my attention towards an old picture of this girl. I raised a brow, “Are you suggesting I know the whereabouts of this Morgan girl?” “Morana.” “Whatever her damn name is.” I spat, “Look, I don’t know what kind of weird s**t you’re trying to insert me into but no, I have no idea who she is. I’m here because they slapped me with an assault charge while the other party who started the fight first cried like a baby and only got a warning and were released the next day.” Pushing the papers away from me as I straightened my back. “I just want to be out of this place but you people are rejecting any bail from me.” “May I ask who is trying to bail you out?” I narrowed my eyes at the investigator, figuring out what his game is here. “A friend of mine, my co-worker who I was with that night. He also testified that I — for the nth time — did not start the fight that led me to being arrested.” “Is that so?” William, the old bastard, nodded with a hum, “Well, I’ve got good news for you then.” “What?” It was suspicious. “Your bail went through.” Blinking in mild surprise, I wanted to feel relieved but irritation washed over me, “Then why am I still here? And being questioned about things I clearly am not involved in.” Eyes studying me, he clears his throat once more, collecting the papers back into a pile since I was clearly not interested in looking over it. “Miss, uh, Copper? Is it?” He gets a nod from me, “Let me ask you this. Are you able to give information about your parents?” “No, I don’t have any. Orphaned.” “Do you have any other immediate family? No? Distant?” I can feel my eye twitch as I continuously shake my head to every question he throws. This exchange continued for almost two hours with me just silently shooting down any inquiry that would suggest I was an even shadier individual. By this time, the nosy investigator was massaging his template as the officers were all just glaring at me for prolonging this whole idea of me being involved in this Mariana — was that even her name? — girl’s disappearance. “I already told you I have not heard of this girl. I have not seen this girl. I. Do. Not. Know. This. Girl.” That was the last response they got from me. However, this damn man was not lighting up at all. “If you won’t be answering anymore, I will instead relay to you vital information about Miss Sinclair.” Blatantly, I roll my eyes so far hard. I let out an exasperated sound as, lolling my head back. We were getting nowhere. And I planned on letting it stay that way. “I’d like to make you aware that your blood work came out with a similarity to Miss Sinclair.” What? f*****g s**t. This was going way too deep for my comfort. “And?” Saying nonchalantly, I refused to look at anyone, my eyes to the ceiling and I cringed at the horrible paint job they did in this place, everything was peeling all over. Not to mention the tiles laid out were uneven, tripping people and making them slam face flat on the floor. I saw that happen the other day. “And,” Willy — damn him — tapped his finger on the table motioning me to look down at the document which I assumed was my blood results, “You belong to the same blood line.” “So you’re saying we’re related?” Trying my best to sound bored as I raised a brow. He shook his head yet he didn’t give a specific answer to my question. “We narrowed the lineage closest to you. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair only have two daughters, Morana and Sylvia, the younger of the two. Sylvia is under her mother’s custody, and we confirmed she is currently attending an all girl’s boarding school. Whilst Morana is…” Missing, duh. How many times has he repeated it already? I get it, the girl vanished like a ghost, poof! Get over it already. The reaction they got from me was a continuation of my silent strike. I should’ve said something more so I can really bullshit my way out of this already. Someone’s phone vibrated — good-old Will’s. Fetching his phone from his pocket, his eyes alternated between the screen and at me. He looks away and towards the two way mirror, giving a firm nod. “How about this? If you answer one more question, you’ll be free to go, Miss Copper.” The tired investigator offered. I narrowed my eyes on him. Trying to guess what this was about. Wanting to finally get this over with, I did a slight nod. “Shoot.” I braced for the final question. I steeled my expression, subtly taking a long inward breath to prepare myself. “Miss Copper.” The name trailed, “Are you perhaps…..Miss Morana Sinclair?” “No.” It was an immediate answer from me. And I’m biting my tongue to soften my bearing as I was giving this man a hard look that can kill a small child. I honestly wish I could kill him right now. Everyone in this room. Even my cell buddy, Paul, who tried to grope me as I passed his cell earlier. Why can’t I just live a peaceful life? I’m not that horrible of a person, damnit. “No? Is that the truth? We will have to confirm that then. Officer?” The officer nods as he makes his way out of the room. “By the way, your bail wasn’t made by your friend.” “What?” Then who? Was it my boss? “It was requested by Miss Morana Sinclair’s private emergency contact.” No. No. No! Does that mean— “The mother?” He shook his head, and I was about to let out a big sigh of relief when he dropped an even worse bomb on me. “Miss Morana’s fated bonds.” I felt my stomach drop. The need to run took over and I was shooting out of my chair. The force made the table I was chained to jerk upwards and come along every desperate move I tried to make, furniture feet screeching along the tiles. The warden took a hold of me, stopping me from my explosion of movement, “Calm the f**k down, kid!” I will certainly not! How the hell did things turn out this way?! I should’ve just f*****g let that fight go or should’ve just killed that b***h so I’d be automatically be convicted and sent to the death penalty. Anything was better than this. Rather than dealing with this sick turn of events. My god, someone f*****g end me. Please. My face slammed on the table, rough hands holding me down there in place as I futilely struggled. “P-please calm down, Miss Copper! Miss Morana’s bonds are just here to confirm your identity. We’re just making sure of things. All four of them were contacted and informed about your existence. They arrived about an hour ago from the Capital—” “Let me go!” A screech left my throat, my feet kicking everywhere. Hysteria was triggered and I felt my skin crawl — I should just kill them, right? Hell, that was the only other option here. I’ll take care of the warden and even get poor William as a casualty. I’ll risk it. I should’ve taken the risk in the first place the moment they refused to let me out of here. I underestimated it to just be another few nights behind bars. So much for f*****g laying low. I literally dug my own grave. This is why you should never leave prints, blood or any other fluid in a crime scene if you’re sporting a life where no one should know who you are. Don’t be utterly stupid like me. There are consequences. I’d rather kill or be killed than face those consequences. Amongst my angry screaming, there were multiple knocks to the door. I can see in the corner of my eye as the investigator jumps and hurriedly makes his way to it. He spoke through the gap and nodded vehemently. “What the hell is the matter with you!? Settle down, now!” Officer asshole comes back to aid as they wrestle me down. “f**k you!” I was seeing red as I yelled. I have to do it. I have no other choice. Will nervously watched from the door, “S-sir, I don’t think this is the best time to—” “Leave.” It only took one word — one voice. It came rushing towards me like a freight train, effectively shutting me the hell up. My own voice failed me and I was left heaving loudly, my breaths deep and long. All the manic energy I had left my body in an instant and reluctantly, they let go, leaving me slumping on the table like dead weight. Bodies left the room and new ones arrived. I automatically closed my eyes at the rush of wide emotions. I buried my face on my chained hands, refusing to look at them. Them. They are really here. I do my best to even my breathing, maybe if I pray hard enough I might just wake up from this nightmare. I don’t even care if I might end up awake in that horrid tiny cell with equally horrible walls. I just don't want to be here. I hear the sounds of chairs being pulled yet no words were said, just my loud inhales and exhales bouncing against the walls, slowly lessening in volume and strain. It felt like hours passed, maybe even days. I slowly lowered myself back to my seat as my knees buckled, my head still on the table. I waited and waited and hoped to heaven the sight of a messed up girl was too much for them. And they just leave. “Please, leave.” I didn’t even notice I was mumbling it repeatedly. “Not yet.” I held back a gasp, as someone finally broke their silence. Not daring to look up, biting my lips so hard even though I was determined to not talk nor even open my mouth. I heard another clear their throat, “Good evening, miss…” they probably saw me jolting in my seat, “We’re only here to confirm some things. We won’t be too much of a bother. Hopefully.” I cringed. Seeing my unwillingness to a conversation as I shrunk back deeper to my chair, a loud irritated scoff cut through my ears. “Are you just going to do that all night? Because you’re only wasting our time.” I felt obvious daggers thrown to me. Still I held on to myself. There was whispering and hissing in the background, probably an argument amongst themselves. “We won’t start unless you are willing to straighten up and have a civil conversation with us. We don’t have all night, but we will settle this one way or another.” It was a threat. I’m sure of it. I leveled my thoughts. This is happening whether I like it or not. I was contemplating on using tears or not. Using that card would only make me look even more pathetic. My finger tapped, mentally counting. 1.…2.…3….4…. Four. Great. All of them were here. “Well?” Right. Time to get this over with.