She Didn't Cry Wolf

Baidford City, Baidford Police Station - BPS. Sunday, September 17th. I'm getting my prints taken by Officer T. Harris as it says on the badge. This is by far the most nerve-wracking and humiliating thing I've ever gone through. "Place your thumb in the ink and then press hard on the paper." I don't know if I want the earth to swallow me whole or to disappear into nothingness. I won't cry, I won't cry, I WON'T cry yet I still feel this giant lump hurting my throat. The officer says to me "Officer Mason will be seeing you, room 204 down the hall. You'll be escorted there shortly." Another officer came and placed cuffs on my wrists, these silver chains don't feel right and they are hurting me. We walked down the passage, it felt like the last walk I'd ever had. The water cooler had a bubble floating to the top and even that frightened me. The wooden doors were open, the passage got darker and almost eerie, a leaky tap somewhere and then I saw her. Officer Mason was a woman, she doesn't look familiar to me but I don't spend my time in police stations despite this happening. The other officer handed her my brown file that he completely and I walked towards this cold room. Small mercies, at least it's not a prison cell. Officer Harris thought startling me, came in to inform me that Officer Nia Mason is from Dan's, a City not very far from us in Baidford she has come here to talk to me specifically. At this point, I don't know how many more officers I can talk to. They don't listen or brush me off as some foolish woman, throwing a tantrum and then cuffing me in chains. This is not a busy station, it's the only one and we don't have many reported crimes. The worst thing that has happened this year was not receiving the newspaper on time because the paperboy Maxwell had an altercation with the distributor for not increasing his pay. Whenever I am in this place, it smells like wood and coffee. The creeks and cracks get to me the most. The green chair I sit in, it's so uncomfortable and I'm certain that I just saw a bug in the corner. It was at that time Nia walked in and began her questioning "Hi… I am sorry for keeping you waiting, my name is Nia Mason and you are?" She had my file in front of her, fingerprints page was sticking out and probably that ugly picture they took of me some time ago but she didn't open it at all so I responded as I rubbed my hands together "My name is Pippa Watts." Her lower left arm leaned over the file and she came closer saying "Don't worry, I am here to help you. You can tell me anything or nothing. No judgement. I just have one condition." I looked her in the eyes wondering and asked "What's that?" "Don't lie to me." She responded swiftly, with absolute no hesitation, she meant what she said. I don't mind being honest with her, I just hope she listens to me. Naturally I asked her "What would you like to know?" "Start from the beginning Pippa." … 3 Months Ago… I worked in a Library named Opus Bibliotheca, the owner is Colm O'Lyne. The Library has been in his family for generations, whenever he had the chance as I was either changing books or ordering new ones, he would pull them out and tell me how his parents bought it or he had read it as a young boy in the corner, on the brown leather chair near the green lamp. He said the table was the right size to have a book, a cuppa and if you were into it, a cigar but he doesn't allow it anymore due to the fact he has had pneumonia and won't risk any lung infection or irritation. The aircon also doesn't work so in summer, the annoying fan would be switched on but he would not allow for the door to be left open. I've asked that he would get the aircon fixed or replaced but it fell on deaf ears. He liked everything the way it was and there was little to no change he would make especially if I wanted to introduce any new writers onto the shelves. He was more of a Bram Stoker or Nirad Chaudhuri, in fact he only allowed specific comic books and they were to be kept in the display behind the cashier desk. No touching until it was paid for, they cost more without grubby fingers touching them. There is a bathroom, straight down the hall to the left. I normally go in there to open a window in hopes it would permeate the lavender scents but with the door closed and sometimes locked with a sign that says employees only, I'd find leaves and little baby birds flying their way in, sparrows mostly. In some folklore sparrows, when they fly in, it is considered an omen of luck but Mister O'Lyne called them noisy buggers, it would be the only time I'd ever see him with a broom or feather duster to shoo them away. The sound of the telephone brought me back. It was that annoying ringing but I couldn't help my smile at the thought of these memories. I turned to Officer Mason and asked "I'm sorry, would you prefer that I skip this part and just get to the point?" At the time she was leaning back in her chair, we were across each other. She seemed as though she was listening intently to me but also somewhat drifting off and when I stopped she furrowed her brows yet reassured me "No, by all means. It's your story to tell. As long as you're honest with me, we can talk as long as you like." So, I continued...