Page 8 of When Night Falls

“You can still submit a police report but I’m telling-”

“Yes, I want this reported.” I don’t even care what else she has to say. I want this on record so that if somethingdoeshappen, they can see the paper trail and know that I wasn’t just some little girl who overreacted. That and I need to sit down before I pass out from hyperventilation.

“Right this way then.” I follow her back toward an interview room where she gives me a piece of paper and a pen. I see thewater dispenser in the back of the room, so I make my way there before sitting down to fill out the report.

I grab one of the little disposable cups and fill it with water. It’s not the coldest but I tilt the cup back, letting the refreshing liquid sit on my tongue for a few seconds before slowly gulping it down. It soothes me almost immediately. I fill it up one more time and take it with me to my seat.

The officer stands nearby while I write down everything I need to say. From the shadow man I saw a few weeks ago, to the time he stood out my window. The fact that he knows my name, which I realized I had forgotten when I first explained this to her, and the six, or is it seven, roses.

After getting it all out and rereading over my statement, I realize it really does seem kind of silly. But I know this world; it has an agenda and it’s out to ruin me. Everyone in it. Or at least that's what my mind is trained to believe these days.

Ugh, I’m starting to sound crazy.

“You’ll need to leave the note as well, the rose you can toss in the trash,” the officer says to me as I stand to leave.

“The note?” I find myself gripping it tightly in my fist, not really sure if I’m ready to let it go. But why? I don’t know. I just don’t feel like I want to give something so personal to a complete stranger.

She holds her hand out and waits for me to hand it over, so I do, reluctantly, but it’s the right thing.

I make an attempt to leave the room, but she stops me, telling me that we’ll need to go back to the front desk so she can file my report with a copy of my ID. As we make the trip back to the front, a thought crosses my mind.

“Do you know who lives in Hollows Trace?” I ask, curious after seeing the mansion again on my way down. I had to force myself not to stop, knowing that I am in a bit of a time crunch here.

“InHollow’s Trace? Well, no one lives there.” She looks over her shoulder at me with a confusing look.

I hate the way her keys jingle at her side. The sound puts me on edge with every step back down the hall. I don’t even know why but I have to bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from yelling at her to control her damn keyring, which would really cause her to look at me like I’m a weirdo.

We get back to the front desk so I shuffle through my bag to hand her my ID.

“What do you mean no one lives there? Is it for sale then?” Not that it really matters, but I’m certain someone lives there. I swear I saw lights on in the gargantuan residence just the other night, though I could be wrong.

“What are you talking about?” The officer finally looks up at me and I can tell she is wondering just how delusional I really am. But honestly, it confuses me.

“The mansion,” I say.

“Miss, no one livesin or onHollows Trace. There’s no mansion or, in fact, any housing on that land at all. It’s a protected piece of land and no one is allowed to even step foot on it.” She angles her head back down after shooting me a look of judgement which makes me feel really fucking crazy by now.

I know there’s a house there, a whole ass castle actually and . . . Ican’tbe imagining that.

“What do you mean by protected? Why?” I decide to ask instead of giving her more reasons to think I’m in a constant state ofdeluluwith my so-called fake stalker and my questions about a place that apparently doesn’t exist.

“Well…" She chews on her thoughts before answering but as she stares at the computer screen, seemingly trying to come up with an answer, the only thing that I’m met with is unsurety. "I honestly don’t know. I mean, it’s been a part of this town’s history for as long as anyone can remember. But I will say, thelast person who trespassed that part of the land went missing and no one has seen them since. It was about ten years ago or something like that.” The officer goes back to typing, my mind wondering about all sorts of different things. I always knew this town held a secret kind of darkness, but I wasn’t sure to what extent and even now, it just gets stranger and stranger by the day.

"What was their name?" I ask, curiosity licking my mind. I can tell she gets irritated with answering my questions but I don’t think she has anything better to do.

She looks up at me then back down to her desk as I lean against the edge and wait for her answer.

"Ameliana or something like that," she answers me. But I don't know why I bothered asking. It's not like I know anyone in this town. “Why don't you check out that little bookstore downtown, Blythewood. I’m sure they’ve got town history books you can browse.”

I smirk to myself.

Speaking of, I check the time on my phone and see that I’ve got an hour before I have to open the store.

“Lucynda Draven Claire.” I hear the officer whisper as she reads off my ID and types something into her computer.

“That’s my name,” I respond sarcastically, tapping the top of her desk.

It's not that I don’t like my name, my last name I for sure could live without. But hearing someone say it out loud gives me slight unease, because little by little these people will get to know the real me. That thought makes me think back to last night and the mystery man who invaded my space.

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