MaskofSand
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 15, 2010
- Posts
- 344
Roberta sat in the little wooden chair, the heels of her boots digging into the rungs of its legs as she rocked, one hand idly clutching her shoulder and fingering her hair as she listened to the officers talk in the office behind her.
"...Just wandering the streets with that knife?"
"...Coated in blood."
"She hasn't said anything but that chant of hers."
And she was repeating it now, softer than soft in a hoarse voice. "He makes the bad men go away, so the little ones can go out and play..." Almost like a child's playground rhyme, the way it left her lips in that singsong manner.
"Roberta?"
"Bobbi." she corrected the officer, staring at his shoes. They were polished black, just like her daddy's. She wondered if Officer would like them. Daddy didn't need them anymore. "My momma was Roberta. Not me. I'm just Bobbi."
"Right. Sorry. Bobbi, who makes the bad men go away? What are you singing about?"
"My hero." She smiled coyly, hugging her legs against her chest in the tiny chair. "When he came, he made the bad man leave."
"Thompson. I bet she's talking about Thompson. Officer on scene." One of the other officers chimed in quietly with his theory, shaking his head. "Ro- Bobbi. How old are you, hun?"
"18. I'm 18. Don't touch the car."
"Whatever she saw's got her pretty traumatized." The last officer sighed. "Bobbi, we're gonna send you somewhere safe tonight, ok? Keep whoever did this away from you."
Her gaze rose with that. "...Away?" She hesitated, unsure on what to say.
She could still see it.
Everything.
Daddy, on his bed.
That man.
That man who came in the window, that man with the scar. That man with the knives; those big, big knives. They glistened in the moonlight that poured through the broken glass. She'd never seen something so frightening look so beautiful.
But then those knives went from silver to red.
Daddy didn't stand a chance.
The man saw her as he pulled one of those giant things from Daddy's back, placing a bloody finger to his lips and grinning. The other one was still there. Waiting.
And she took it. Dragged it through the streets, lost in a numb haze until- those lights. Cars, voices, hands and comforting words. That's how she got here...
Why did he do this to her?
(OOC: this is a bit twisted a thread. Please send me a private message if you are curious on it. Just a little warning: This ain't peaches and cream.)
http://i766.photobucket.com/albums/xx303/Masquerade0159/Plaid_Skirt_I_by_fetishfaerie_stock.jpg?t=1279295462
The knife she found: A 16" bladed Panga machete.
http://i.ebayimg.com/22/!B-KUPIwBmk~$(KGrHqR,!ioEzNsiHq5cBM77kML5cQ~~0_35.JPG
"...Just wandering the streets with that knife?"
"...Coated in blood."
"She hasn't said anything but that chant of hers."
And she was repeating it now, softer than soft in a hoarse voice. "He makes the bad men go away, so the little ones can go out and play..." Almost like a child's playground rhyme, the way it left her lips in that singsong manner.
"Roberta?"
"Bobbi." she corrected the officer, staring at his shoes. They were polished black, just like her daddy's. She wondered if Officer would like them. Daddy didn't need them anymore. "My momma was Roberta. Not me. I'm just Bobbi."
"Right. Sorry. Bobbi, who makes the bad men go away? What are you singing about?"
"My hero." She smiled coyly, hugging her legs against her chest in the tiny chair. "When he came, he made the bad man leave."
"Thompson. I bet she's talking about Thompson. Officer on scene." One of the other officers chimed in quietly with his theory, shaking his head. "Ro- Bobbi. How old are you, hun?"
"18. I'm 18. Don't touch the car."
"Whatever she saw's got her pretty traumatized." The last officer sighed. "Bobbi, we're gonna send you somewhere safe tonight, ok? Keep whoever did this away from you."
Her gaze rose with that. "...Away?" She hesitated, unsure on what to say.
She could still see it.
Everything.
Daddy, on his bed.
That man.
That man who came in the window, that man with the scar. That man with the knives; those big, big knives. They glistened in the moonlight that poured through the broken glass. She'd never seen something so frightening look so beautiful.
But then those knives went from silver to red.
Daddy didn't stand a chance.
The man saw her as he pulled one of those giant things from Daddy's back, placing a bloody finger to his lips and grinning. The other one was still there. Waiting.
And she took it. Dragged it through the streets, lost in a numb haze until- those lights. Cars, voices, hands and comforting words. That's how she got here...
Why did he do this to her?
(OOC: this is a bit twisted a thread. Please send me a private message if you are curious on it. Just a little warning: This ain't peaches and cream.)
http://i766.photobucket.com/albums/xx303/Masquerade0159/Plaid_Skirt_I_by_fetishfaerie_stock.jpg?t=1279295462
The knife she found: A 16" bladed Panga machete.
http://i.ebayimg.com/22/!B-KUPIwBmk~$(KGrHqR,!ioEzNsiHq5cBM77kML5cQ~~0_35.JPG
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