#tw cop mention

[literal-trans-beans]

Guys during Halloween I went up to a guy with a police costume and said

'Hey your costume looks really convincing'

And then his radio went off

Quote, 'Yeah, I've been told that'

I told a police officer that he looks like a police officer

[pinkpinkmermayyy]

“stop policing queer people and their identities!!” “stop acting like a cop men can be lesbians”

you know lesbians are one of the biggest victims of violence from cops right. Especially POC lesbians and ESPECIALLY black lesbians and ESPECIALLY ESPECIALLY trans lesbians. Right.

[pechaberriesandsoju]

your other neighbors did what!! 😀

OH YOU CAUGHT THAT????

Yeah, they uh okay, so I was still in high school. I think when this happened, but I was home! We didn't have school on Fridays at my school, so it was a homeschool day. My dad and I are chilling at home when suddenly there's a loud bang, the house shakes and stuff starts falling out of cabinets in the kitchen across the house. We run outside, and the neighbors house is on fire! It's gathering a crowd, and we're all worried for the neighbors until a cop speeds up and demands we all get in our houses with his gun out. So you can imagine how fast we all scramble, except for my dad, who had run to the backyard to grab the house to wet the plants on the fence line so they wouldn't catch so he missed the cop completely. Anyways, uh, long story short cause I don't wanna ramble too much, but it turns out the neighbors fixed the water boiler into a bomb, blew up their house, the husband had a stand off with one of the cops and got shot (i witnessed it and I witnessed him pulling the trigger too) and later we find out both he and his wife did it because they were having financial problems and decided to try to go for suicide by cop. And apparently, before they set off the water boiler? They called the local news and told them, "There's going to be a shoot off at (Street name)" and that's how the cops found out. They both lived and from what I know from what their family told us last?? Are happy in prison.

So yeahhh my neighbors blew up their house and now there's an empty lot that my dad and his friends use for their trailers!! No I have no idea if they are allowed to do that but the city gets onto them if it's not mowed!!!!

[angstfactory]

@a-small-drop-in-a-big-pond (micah)

Honestly, Neylani had intentionally dragged out going to The Lone Wolf as long as possible now. It was literally the last business she needed to check up on to see if it had been affected in the chaos of that festival weekend. The town was really rallying together to make sure the residents of Raven's Peak got what they needed, which included their local businesses-- those needed to be up and running as soon as possible, so the place could go back to pretending that everything was okay.

However, this bar was owned by Micah Boudreaux. A person the sheriff wasn't too keen on interacting with.

Maybe if she hadn't stupidly asked the man for a date only to get stood up by him, things would be different. Neylani should have stuck to her guns on that whole 'no younger men' rule of hers. It already felt so awkward, like she was some cougar chasing after guys that barely had a steady foot in this world. Granted, she did at least try to stay above the 30's but even then... It made her feel desperate.

She was desperate. She knew that. Didn't mean she wanted anyone else to know, too.

Still-- the sting of having been stood up by the guy, there being zero follow up from him afterwards, not even a hint of apology... Neylani didn't appreciate the disrespect, and she liked wasting her time even less. The sheriff strolled into The Lone Wolf, ready to talk discuss professional things and professional things only. "Mr. Boudreaux," Ney approached the man behind the bar in a forced tone of polite indifference, "the department is checking on the local shops and businesses in the area, to see if there's anything to you need assistance with, after the festival." She paused about a couple of feet away from the bar, clearly ready to be in and out. The place looked fine to her.

[the-fallen-collective]

if anyone I said goodnight to sees this, ignore me, I am going to sleep, just gotta say this/get this off my chest before I forget

tw for sa mention and mention of hallucinations

..I’m sorry, but what the ever loving fuck? I’m not opening up to my therapist about shit anymore until we can find a new one

fuck her

therapists are only allowed to tell the legal guardian(s) things if the kid or someone else is in active danger

last I checked, mentioning having hallucinations and feeling unable to meet expectations isn’t us being in immediate danger. It’s certainly not the first time we’ve mentioned it either. But she goes and tells our ABLEIST mom who doesn’t actually listen to us about anything about both things!!!

But the times we straight up told her “oh yeah we feel unsafe at school because someone is ACTIVELY sexually assaulting us” she doesn’t fucking say shit to anyone! When we actually are in danger!

what the fuck? fuck her, fuck everyone god fucking damn it I hate people this is why we never open up to adults because it never fucking ends well literally every single time we’ve opened up to adult we’ve been ready led, we’ve been grounded and in trouble, we’ve been yelled at, we’ve been given silent treatment, we’ve had the cops called, we’ve been not believed, we’ve had a lot of adults take our abusers sides, we’ve had adults lie about keeping things (things that aren’t any active danger to anyone) to our parents leading us to get in trouble, and now this!!

we can’t fucking trust anyone can we??

I want to just lay down and cry I hate everything

[soloquel]

had a cop ask me for my number at work bc he wanted me to have some drinks with him & then go to the club together, which i tried to say no to in the nicest, most polite way possible bc a) i was at work (retail, surrounded by customers) and b) i'm scared of a man's hurt ego, but he kept insisting and asking why not etc., and it took me telling him i have a boyfriend for him to finally back off, but not after asking where he works (i only said also in retail) and him telling me that i'd be better off with a cop, but then he finally left. man, i hate this so much, i hate having people know where i work and being so accessible to all kinds of weirdos, and i hate how i had to warn all my coworkers not to tell that guy anything bc i'm terrified of cops and their fucking immunity in regard to so many things. also he kept bragging about how he carries his gun around at all times, and then turned around and wondered why most people start to act weirdly around him when they find out he's a cop, like HUH???? anyways i hate having to be paranoid about him finding out where i live, where my boyfriend works, etc. idk man. i find cops terrifying.

[oh-look-a-homosexual-punk-bitch]

I FUCKING HATE MY SIL'S MOMS BOYFRIEND, HE BANGED ON THE DOOR AT 5:30AM AND I HAD A FUCKING PANIC ATTACK BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS THE FUCKING COPS OR DRUG TASK FORCE, ITS A FUCKING TRAUMA RESPONSE FOR ME CUZ I WAS IN A DRUG RAID AS A KID, HE FUCKING KNOWS THAT, YET HE STILL DID IT, I FUCKING HATE HIM

[stardustsomewhere]

moved out. no hope for my girlfriend at this point. i checked my food, you guys were right. she was poisoning me. i am so heartbroken someone i love would do something like this to me.

she invited apple to come live with us without my consent. thank god my friend is willing to take me in

i dont know whats next for us. i took photos and screenshots of the evidence. maybe i should go to the police at this point

[themagicmusicman]

driving home from holiday today and we passed a group of horses that the police use for,,,, something? anyway the horse cops were feeding and as we drove past them, out of my open window, i heard someone shout the best thing ive ever heard:

“OI! THOSE ARE HORSES, NOT PIGS”

whoever you are, i love you and you’re my honorary son now. sorry, it’s the law,

The horse cops said so

[that-0ne-loser-ky]

If thare were more damn crosswalks I wouldn't have to jaywalk you stupid fucking cop, I'd call you a pig but your ass wouldn't taste half as good as Bacon, I'm not walking to the other fucking side of town and back just to be on the other side of the road.

Let me walk places you stupid ass cop ill fucking roast you on a spit along with every other official in this fucking city turn you into fucking dog kibble. Feed a pig to a pig maybe. Make hamburgers from a Richy fat cow

[methylphenidatedreams]

*deep sigh* dream time before i forget:

First of all, this was all Tom Taylor’s nightwing. So, Barbara was batgirl and dick was a himbo. Anyways, babs had decided to infiltrate a gang against dick’s warnings that it wouldn’t end well for her but the gang decided to use her as a patsy because she was a noob/posing as a gang member’s girlfriend and set her up for a murder. Dick being his cop self was given point on the case (after gloating a bit that he was right) and was trying to prove her innocence. Also i think he was meant to represent her in court because dream logic? Anyways babs had managed to get a bunch of other cops on her side and get them to help her prove her innocence. Like, she got a conference room despite being in police custody, that’s how good she is. Dick was helping but also being a bit of a nuisance and cracking jokes/trying to be the center of attention/cheering up babs. Which is when i realized this was meant to be a romcom and i found this so ridiculous i woke myself up.

[incorrect-worldless-quotes]

Edda, kicking down the door: Consider the fundraising over! Your hero has arrived!

Old One: Uhh… where did you get so much money from, kids?

Aven: Well, you know, I’m pretty good at numbers. I just crunched them, I stretched them, I analyzed my accounts, I timed the market-

*police sirens start to wail in the background*

Old One: DID YOU TWO ROB A BANK?!

Edda: Oh, come on, Old One, do you really think so little of us? *opens the bag as purple dye explodes on their face*

Old One:

Aven: …it was a credit union.

(Submitted by @chaosandtoomuchideas)

[angstfactory]

@roman-werewolfy

Another long night. Well past the time she should have gone home. Since the festival, though, Neylani had taken on many extra hours to assist in getting their beloved town back to its original shape. It was the only way she could make it up to all of them for having failed so wildly that night, in not being able to protect anyone else, let alone herself. The sheriff wasn't two blocks from home, the rest of her evening mapped out in head as the cackle of the radio started up-- she often forgot to shut it off.

Nightshade Park, yeah. Check the north bench. 10-4. ETA is 20 minutes.

"Jesus Christ," the woman sighed, immediately cutting the wheel to turn the SUV around. She was a lot closer than twenty minutes. Neylani leaned forward to shut off the radio. Another two turns and five minutes later, the wolf's vehicle pulled in at the curb and got placed in park. She quickly unbuckled and hopped down, rushing down the dimly lit pathway towards a bench she had plenty experience with before. Sure enough, a large figure was slumped across its hard surface.

This wasn't the first time they'd found the man there like this before, but this many times in one week? It was like he was getting worse all over again. And she suspected it wasn't just coincidence. Yes, she had been concerned about his habits before and did her best to go easy on the wolf-- she had witnessed the changes in him over the last several decades. She'd just been a girl, when he was a young man and happy with his wife, when he became a father three times over. But then he enlisted, and each short return home, there was something else different in him. And after his wife passed, all light had gone from his eyes completely. All the locals knew, they sympathized. What could be done, though? The man spiraled straight down the drain and all anyone could do was look away, so they didn't witness the wreckage. Maybe, even, they thought it was respectful to mind their own business. She'd been that way too, feeling it wasn't appropriate to get involved when she had no business to.

Neylani couldn't do that anymore, though. Not after what he'd done for her that night.

She wiped a tear away, moving forward to help. "Roman, honey, wake up, come on," Neylani's voice was gentle, but she took him by the front of the shirt to sit him upright, "we need to move." If he got another arrest so soon, he may land before a judge that was sick and tired of giving him second chances.

Booze, aftershave, and cigarettes-- he always smelled the same, it was thick. The liquor particularly heavy tonight. "I know you're tired, but right now you got to help me help you, I don't want the deputies to get you tonight," Neylani told the drunk wolf, both arms going about his middle in order to heave him straight off the bench. Thankfully, the sheriff was strong enough on her own that she could bear the brunt of his weight and basically half-drag his body back to the SUV as fast as she was able. Within a few moments of struggle, Roman was placed in the backseat of the sheriff's SUV.

By the time Neylani drove from the curb and turned down another street, the flashing lights of one of her deputies reflected briefly in the rearview mirror. Close call. If anyone found out, it probably wouldn't look too good on her, she was doing this. Too bad. "Are you okay back there?" she asked, reaching to adjust the mirror lower so she could see the man laying there better.

One of these days, he wasn't going to come out of one of these funks, that's what she was afraid of.

[the-fallen-collective]

man life is shit lately

sorry for being such a downer, but I wanna get this off my chest and I’m too scared to actually talk to anyone directly

I’m not gonna go into detail for anything, just make a list of things that mostly started since last week

-got posted on r/systemcringe due to a misunderstand leading to a several day breakdown, a spike in paranoia and a few splits

-someone we really like and felt comfortable and safe around and had made a safe community for systems turned out to be a pedo

-our therapist told our mother things, which goes against our confidentiality considering the stuff we told our therapist isn’t anything that has us or anyone else in danger

-our mother is yet again ignoring us and our needs :/

-thinking back a lot and realizing our mother may not be as good as we thought she was, possibly even being borderline abusive for neglecting and brushing off our needs

-remembering something really traumatic that happened a long time ago but also part of the reason we ended up developing our CDD and our system

-remembering we are in fact still living in an abusive household (possibly two)

-going back to school tomorrow where one of our abusers are (and just.. our school has so many problems, the chances of us dying/being killed there are much higher than they should be but I guess since the last incident, there a lot more cops around. Which doesn’t help much for personal reasons, but i guess I’d rather not worry not being shot at or stabbed than the initial panic that happens whenever I see a cop)

-despite all this and our trauma, I still feel like we aren’t valid in anything because it “wasn’t as bad” or whatever and now my intrusive urges to throw myself into a really abusive relationship is back :/

[janny-aqua]

I remember making a post about how Leon wouldn't want to be a cop cause of how corrupted the system is and Jill telling him likewise, and guy said that he would still be a cop only to try helping people. I call BS on that, if he has a heart, he wouldn't be a cop.

[poll-ventures]

Perdition 1.6

<                      ≡                      >

I dialed the number I knew by heart. As the ringing tone purred throatily into my ear, Horne turned back to me. I stared up at her, and a thin smile grew on my lips. She matched it, with one twice as mean.

“You calling your lawyer?” she crooned.

“No.”

“Then who? Who’s gonna get you outta this pit?”

You’re looking at him, I thought. “You’ll see.”

She glared at me, a thin frown forming another crack in her sagging, fault-lined face. She rolled her eyes, dropping her attention to the wood she was carving.

The sixth ring was cut short. They had picked up.

“Hello, this is Fuhgeddi's Pizza, what can I get started for you?”

“Hi, I’d like two large pizzas, one with pepperoni and one just cheese.”

“Will that be pick-up or delivery?”

“Delivery,” I said, grinning madly.

The look on Horne’s face spread from her all-purpose frown to what seemed to be a fine china special, a genuine glower.

Her eyes were full of disgust, mouth wiggling up and down between an evil smirk and a furled grimace. It was horrifying and gratifying in equal measure, and I took a step back from her.

It was a good thing I had, because she reached out with the hand holding a stupidly sharp knife, grasping for the receiver. 

“Give me that,” she growled, not seeming to want to take even one step closer to the dumbass in front of her. She quickly sheathed the knife, then held out an open hand, not breaking eye contact.

I blinked. The young lady on the phone had asked me where the pizza was to be delivered. “Old Hill Police Station,” I said with an edge of laughing panic. I saw Horne turn to slam the button that would end the call. Hurriedly, I spat out “And we’ll pay with cash!” 

Three sad beeps told me my line had been disconnected. She had slammed the block of lightly carved wood into the wall mounted base, shattering the hard plastic in several places.

I stared at the phone, then at her, and dropped the phone piece into her outstretched hand.

Her lip still couldn’t decide on a smirk or a scowl. Both looked equally furious.

“You said any numb-”

“Shut the fuck up, Dempsey,” she said, her voice rasped like the drawing of a sword that ill-fit its scabbard.

She let the receiver drop out of her hands, and it clattered against the white bricks as it hung from its cord like a noose. As I watched it hang, she grabbed my shoulders quickly and slammed me hard against the bars. 

My temples, jaw and chest ached where the cool bars dug into me. Probably steel, I thought distantly, head ringing like a struck bell.

A bell’s usually copper and tin, mostly copper… Metal on metal. Blinking, I tried to clear my thoughts, still with half a grin stuck on my face.

“Ain’t you as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine?” She was angry again, and with her anger returned the mountain accent. 

I groaned, unable to open my mouth with my face against the bars. I had a dull, prickly feeling that this was only going to get worse from here. Horne very quickly confirmed my theory, pulling me back from the cell and then swiftly slamming my head against the bars.

****

When I woke up, the first thing I felt was pain. Head piercing, mind melting, and excruciating pain. I moaned, shifted on the cot, then slipped back into an aching sleep.

****

When I really woke, I realized I was in a cell. My head still pulsed with pain, but it was more subdued. Quietly, somewhere down the hall, Kim was still watching old episodes of Cheers. As I moved to sit up from the cot, my forehead felt like it was on fire, but my hands were free.

The cot had a small, crusty pool of dried blood where my head had been, and a matching, angry scab was built up on my forehead. My ears were ringing slightly, and I felt my stomach turn at the sight of the blood. 

You smiled.

I froze, looking around the empty room. I was alone. I rubbed at my head, closing my eyes and holding what I had just felt in my mind, staring at it in painful detail, pouring all my attention and will into the voice, the smile in an attempt to make sense of it.

First a laugh, now a smile? I had heard the laugh, and seen the smile, seen it like it was someone right next to me, looking down at me with a hungry smile from within my cell.

What the fuck was happening to me?

Had the bitch cracked my head like an egg? It felt like something other was inside me, inside not just my head but my entire body. It felt wrong, sickeningly wrong, and I stood up and shook my arms to try and rid myself of that feeling.

Suddenly on my feet, I felt my head spin, and I grabbed the bars to anchor myself. I started to shiver, first softly, then all over, unstoppable. That's when I realized they'd taken my coat. I slowly stepped over to the cot, shaking the entire way, and finally, carefully slipped underneath the thin cover. 

I turned to face the wall, and tried to focus on breathing, my entire body still violently shaking. Somewhere deep inside me, something wanted out. I held it down, painfully gripping my arms through the paper thin linen, breathing slowly and carefully.

I spent what felt like hours this way, and the shaking slowed as I warmed, but my headache only grew worse.

I dozed, listening to the theme song of Cheers wax and wane, idly feeding the clock in my brain with what info I could glean from the span of an episode. Kim hated advertisements, and muted the TV every time they came on, sometimes just letting a few words slip.

It became a game: Ooh, you let the first note of the jingle play Kimmy, you’re really falling behind! I laughed, which felt close to a sob.

Throughout this interminable and hazy delirium, I could hear nothing else in the police station. I idly wondered if the blue-suits were still out there, in the woods, pouring over all the evidence Noel and I had left. Footprints, unspent bullets, and a feather.

Not for the first time in that cell, my mind slipped back to Noel. Her eyes when she held me at gunpoint. Not showing even a bit of nerves. I kept seeing her, with that tiny red blanket wrapped around her shoulders, being directed out of the woods by a quietly consoling cop. It reminded me of the dress she'd been wearing when we first met.

The first time spoke to Noel, she’d been very nervous. It’d been the day I arrived in Old Hill, and I was as tired as I’d ever been from the last leg of my trek.

I arrived just after sundown, and it was freezing cold. I remember scanning the street, looking down at the carbon copied rows of mcmansions for the address I’d been given by my father, many highways ago.

When her father opened the door, they’d all been standing there like a family photo, even the dog. Kyle Montgomery had stepped back, putting an arm around his wife and daughter, face tugged upwards with a thin smile that didn't bother to reach his eyes.

He had made the introductions, then disappeared into his study, leaving the tour to the two women. 

When I first saw Noel, she’d almost been hiding behind her mother. She was dressed perfectly, almost doll-like in that red dress and subtle makeup. It felt wrong, and I could almost at once tell that she felt the same way.

The reason I could tell: It was like looking into a mirror. A mirror that shows a you from ten years ago, with perfect braids and a red ribbon in her hair. She may not be blood, but even her name was similar to my own and my sisters. 

For a moment I’d wondered if this was part of father’s plan, to shack me up with some rich folks that were just like the ones I’d left, right down to the names, and hear tell of me breaking down from his hundreds of miles away. Surely I’d crack, go back to the way I was and the who I was, and come back home once I had seen his brand of reason.

That was not going to happen. I was sure of it.

In my mind's eye, I swiftly blurred past the tour. I didn't want to think about the empty, freshly cleaned out room where I was supposed to sleep, which had no furniture, save for the bedframe and the box it had came in. I didn't want to think about the camera that would lie witness to what Noel believed happened in that hallway.

After the tour, wherein Noel had warmed up a bit as we traded stories from their winter vacation and my trip down America's highway system, we made dinner.

It was a much needed change in the power balance: I got to take a break from saying my thank you's, while Rachel and Noel got to thank me for handing them freshly cut peppers and mushrooms to layer over the cheese and tomato sauce.

While her mother was putting the finishing touches on the pizza, Noel and I sat down in the massive open living room, to relax until dinner time. I sat by awkwardly as she did homework on her laptop.

Over the top of the screen, she watched me stare up at the Christmas tree in the corner. It was very tall and slowly dying, a month after its eponymous holiday.

"She's a pretty big one, isn't she?" Noel had gingerly put aside her small laptop. "Daddy let me pick it."

"You picked well," I'd smiled. "It reminds of the woods. I slept under a lot of trees just like her."

Her eyes went wide, as they had anytime I mentioned my hike. "Did you ever see a bear?"

I chuckled, turning away from the tree. "Quite a few, but not the animal kind."

She'd turned her head curiously, then said, "I've always wanted a little brother." She'd seemed to size me up, then nodded. "A big brother will have to do."

We both giggled. Now, thinking back, I don't think I'd been a very good older brother.

The pizza had been good, and it drew Mr. Montgomery out of his study. We ate at the dinner table with fork and knife, while Mrs. Montgomery told me about the history of their lace tablecloth and I tried not to spill pizza sauce on it. I had gotten used to the quiet of my own company, so their idle chatting was a herculean effort to abide in.

I could still very clearly see Kyle Montgomery sitting at that table. He'd been silent for almost the entire meal, just nodding politely with the discussion and bringing out that thin smile of his when he deemed it appropriate. As the girls cleaned up at the end of dinner, he offered, quite grandly, a drink in his office. 

I walked with him, and he remained silent as he opened a thick glass door that led into his study. The walls were lined with bookshelves, which were adorned with a small rolling ladder at the far end.

Just past that and before the back wall was a massive mahogany desk which sat proudly empty. A large fireplace roared hungrily. I stepped in, looking around in polite interest. 

He showed me the first real smile I had seen on him as I turned back to him opening a thin, black walnut liquor cabinet. His perfect white teeth gleamed in the firelight, and he said something… Something I don’t remember. Then he stepped forward, producing a curved knife from the top shelf.

And I took it, nodding. The memory was getting blurrier, and I had no recollection of this knife or anything past the study, save for saying good night and retreating to my room.

I felt my brain trying to walk through both versions of events in my mind. In one, I took a glass of fine whiskey and walked up to the matching glass door that led out into the wooded backyard.

In the other, I took the gleaming knife, and slipped it into the pad of my index finger. A small bead of blood pooled, threatening to spill over my finger.

In the other memory, we made polite discussion about the expenses a room like this can run, and I told him of my father’s study in New York, the towering walls of bookcases and hidden reading nooks.

In the opposite memory, Kyle took a white, lace edged cloth out of his back pocket, carefully dabbing the blood away. Another bead of blood spilled from the tiny wound, and I watched uncaring as the man bent and licked at the wound, quickly and business-like.

I placidly stared at my finger as the sides of the wound somehow started to reach out for each other, like molasses filling the sides of a bowl, until the skin met in the middle, appearing healed.

And now in both memories, I left the study with a nod and a wave, pausing to help with the last of the clean up before heading upstairs to collapse, exhausted.

Inside my cell, shivering and with my head pulsing in rhythm with my heart, I dragged my hands across my face and moaned. I didn’t even want to think about it.

I couldn’t not, the plain reality of the double memory was staggering, but I just wanted to ignore it. I wanted to be done with whatever crock of crazy bullshit I’d ended up in, just sleep and be done with it.

The memory wouldn’t let me. I sat up in bed, slowly, then closed my eyes, elbows on my knees to support my head. Why now? I’d thought back on that memory a dozen times before, why today does it bring back two opposing truths?

And why does it feature Noel’s father handing me a knife? Why, for that matter, had I taken it?!

And what had he said? Why couldn’t I remember? Why in God’s name had I allowed him to lick my finger? Why had it healed me? In the footage Noel had shown me, why had his hand hovered-

The door to the room opened. I looked up as Horne shoved a set of keys back in her pocket, staring at me over those gold rimmed glasses. Her eyes lowered to meet mine. She had been staring at the scar on my head. 

“Pepperoni or cheese?” she asked as she stepped in, booting the door closed behind her. In the crook of her hip, she held two large grease stained pizza boxes.

The smell hit me immediately, and I realized I hadn’t eaten for… I didn’t know how long. Still, I looked up at her, evaluating. “Pepperoni,” I hedged.

She slid a box through the bars vertically, and I grabbed it, putting it down on the cot next to me. Opening it, I saw it was plain cheese. She leaned against the wall, facing me smugly. Next to her, the shattered phone hung limply. 

I ripped free a slice of the pizza, then closed the box as I bit into it. It was good, but cold. I stared down at the box, remembering nights spent with Sam, Jack and Danny.

Fuhgeddi's Pizza was their go to, and I was always the one to order it. I read the name on the box, and the circling design around the logo that read 'Great People, Great Service, Great Food? Fuhgeddi-boudit!''

I smiled around the slice of pizza, then turned back to Horne. Her box was on the floor next to her, and she stared at me eat. It seemed clear that she would wait for me to finish before talking.

As I wiped my hands of my second slice, she pulled a water bottle out of her back pocket. Stepping off of the cot, I grabbed for it.

She grinned, pulling it back at the last second. I snapped for it again, and this time she let me have it. I cracked the cap off quickly, drinking it carefully as I sat back down on the cot. Breathing slowly as I recapped it, I looked at Horne. I felt marginally more normal, and thought to thank her for the food. 

Staring at the broken phone and feeling the ache in my skull pulse, I decided against it.

“So,” she said amiably. “We ran your details. Your wallet’s a piece of shit by the way, you’ll want to get that replaced someday. Tracked you down to New York City, with a trail of police meetings on your way down to Old Hill.” I watched her as she spoke, but my hands grabbed another slice of pizza. I ate it. Slowly.

“It’s pretty clear you aren’t who you say you are. For one, your license says you’re a woman by the name of Natalie Dempsey, but that’s out of date.” I tried to hide the cold vacuum that description suddenly poured into me. It helped that I had a slice of pizza firmly lodged in my mouth.

She watched me like a hawk. “Seems to me that you’re some type of con-woman. Folks take you in, for a year or so, and you screw them over. But this time," she got close to the bars, squinting at me. "You fucked up.” She said it, fully believing it. It almost made me want to laugh, but a thick layer of dread muffled the mirth. 

“Tell me about what happened today, Natalie.” She intended to call me by my deadname the entire time.

****

Hours later, Horne was heavily panting. My ears still rang from her screaming, slamming the bars, and throwing around the chair she had dragged in about thirty minutes ago. She hadn’t sat on it once. 

Next to me, the box of pizza lay open and half eaten, the water bottle sitting open on the oily cardboard. Across the room, Horne’s box was open, a thin pile of wood shavings on top of the pepperoni pizza. She leaned over to pick up the chair, which had landed on its side.

Its legs stuck in the bars of my cell for a moment, then noisily decoupled. She gripped the metal chair with the thin plastic padding tightly, staring death at me.

I slowly brought the water bottle to my mouth and took another sip. I hadn’t spoken once. She’d asked me many, many questions, sometimes insulting my intelligence, sometimes my appearance. I wasn’t going to give her what she wanted.

“You’re going to tell us what you did. One way or the other,” she said, still breathing heavily. She finally sat down in the chair, and started to dig out her key ring. I couldn’t help but grin.

In the silence, I heard the idle chatter that was Kim's episode of Cheers suddenly die. I had gotten so used to it, only hearing the theme and the ever-present 'Norm!'s over the muffle of the hallway. Now it was gone, and not at the start of a commercial either. 

Horne seemed not to notice, breathing carefully as she searched for the right key.

Footfalls approached from down the long hallway, the thin squeak of wet sneakers. With a metal clank, the door unlocked and opened. Horne looked up, and we both stared at what was, plainly, a pizza delivery boy.

Maybe boy was putting it too young; the thin, lanky guy looked about my age. He was wearing a backwards hat, and a black shirt that matched the Fuhgeddi’s Pizza logo on the box.

I briefly glanced down at the pepperoni-and-wood-carvings pizza on the floor next to Horne, who looked up at the intruder in confusion.

Meeting Horne’s gaze, the boy smiled brightly. He jingled a ring of keys in his right hand, and the grin widened as Horne stood, reaching for the handcuffs on her belt.

“Nuh-uh,” he said, stepping back and putting his right hand on his left hip. “(Sit, give me your keys, and forget.)” I stared at him as he said this, and his mouth did not make the shapes of the words.

They moved, and he was speaking, but he had not said ‘Sit, give me your keys, and forget.’ It was what I heard, however, and it was what Horne was doing.

She sat back down again, not roughly, staring at the newcomer. He held his hand out, and she dropped her keys into his hand. Somehow, his smile widened even further. Then, he started flipping through the keys on the ring.

Past him, I watched Horne’s eyes glaze over. She was awake, but seemed unseeing, not there. A sleepwalker's gaze.

“Nice to see you again!” The boy said, and with that smile all over his face I could see him as nothing but a boy. "Damn, she got you good." He gestured to my head, then stepped towards my cell’s door. He squinted for a moment, then deftly unlocked it.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked unbelievingly, sliding back on the cot as he opened the door to my cell.

“Isaiah," he said with a hand to his chest. "And you’re Parker. Unless I just really, really fucked up.” He had stepped a little into my cell, hanging in from a bar. I looked back at Horne, who was staring sightlessly at me.

“What did you do to her?” I asked, blinking up at him.

“I (told) her,” he said, as if that cleared everything up. Again, his lips moved wrong, too fast to be 'told'. “She’ll be okay. Anyway, wanna go?”

I looked at him, concerned, and slowly shook my head. “That’s… I’m already in jail, I don’t want to get in any more trouble.”

“I know,” he said in a pacifying tone, “and that’s our fault. I’m here to make that right. Plus, we've got a tie to break. So let's go,” he said, nodding towards the open door with a grin.

Rapt in some dull species of mania, I felt a grin creep onto my face as well.

"Well?" Isaiah asked, his smile only growing.

What do you do?

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