3
T he events of yesterday loom over me like a shadow, and I can’t shake the memory of it. As my pen scratches across the paperwork, my mind drifts to the unexpected sighting of Amelia. The image of her shocked face keeps replaying in my mind like a haunting echo.
She would’ve been terrified; and that’s probably an understatement.
Witnessing something like that is bad enough, but being caught up in it is a whole different story. I remember the look in her eyes—pure fear. It’s a feeling that sticks with you, no matter how much you try to shake it off.
I’d checked in with the paramedic after she’d dismissed her yesterday, just to make sure she was really okay. The paramedic reassured me that she was, but here I am, still fucking worrying about her.
I can’t help it. The way she looked at me, the vulnerability in her eyes... It’s not something I can just easily forget.
I try to push her image aside, focusing instead on the paperwork in front of me, but her presence lingers, a nagging distraction that refuses to be ignored. I’m a man of few words, but my mind churns with a sea of unspoken thoughts and unresolved emotions—thoughts and feelings I thought I’d buried deep ever since that night.
I usually do a good job of unintentionally avoiding her when she comes over to hang out with my sister. It’s not that I don’t want to see her, and I try not to be a snob or a grumpy prick, but if I don’t keep my distance, I’ll get caught up with thoughts of her.
Which is exactly what’s happening right fucking now.
With a sigh, I stand up and make my way to the staff lunchroom, in desperate need of a break. It’s only ten in the morning, and I’m already feeling the strain. The familiar routine of grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge helps to ground me, if only for a moment, before I return to my desk.
As I walk back, I pass by officers engrossed in their work or chatting too loudly for my liking. Mornings at the Wattle Creek station are usually calm, filled with reports from the night before, minor traffic issues, and the occasional retail or school-related call. It’s a welcome respite from the chaos that often descends upon us during the late afternoons or nights.
I’m grateful for my shift rotation, four days on, four days off, with each fortnight alternating Mondays off. It’s a schedule that allows me some semblance of normalcy, a luxury in our line of work. But as always, things can change in an instant, and I try not to take this stability for granted.
Daniels, full name Sebastian Daniels, has been working with me for the past few months, and sometimes, I forget how much older he is than me. At thirty-five years old, he acts like a fucking child most days. While I’d never admit it to him, he’s grown on me. Despite his occasional immaturity, I see a good man beneath the surface—someone I can trust, much like I trust my brother Xavier. He reminds me of Xavier in many ways, and perhaps that’s why I’ve grown to rely on him, even if it’s begrudgingly.
I return to my desk, the familiar rhythm of the station lulling me back to a sense of normalcy. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted, that the events of yesterday have set something in motion that I can’t quite grasp. And amidst the chaos of police work, amidst the mundane routine of paperwork and reports, one thing remains clear—the presence of Amelia in my thoughts is a puzzle I can’t seem to solve.
I pull my phone out and reluctantly type out a text.
The three bubbles dance as I can imagine Xavier’s mind running rampant, trying to decipher why I’m asking. Just answer the fucking question , I chant silently in my head.
A few moments pass before another text pops up.
Ignoring his question, I just reply with a thumbs up emoji.
It’s about twelve thirty now, and I’m sitting in my car, on our second round of patrolling for the day. This time, I’m behind the wheel, with Daniels in the passenger seat. We’ve been driving around town, observing the townsfolk, yet, somehow, subconsciously, I’ve ended up outside Koala Creek Primary School, about a twenty-minute drive from the main town square of Wattle Creek.
What the fuck am I doing here? The question lingers in the air. Daniels is absentmindedly scrolling on his phone, not having noticed where we are just yet.
I had asked my brother for the details of Amelia’s school, but I hadn’t really thought through what I wanted to do with the information. And much to my dismay, I’ve ended up out the front of the school. How fitting.
I can’t explain why I’m here, why I’ve driven to this place without even realising it. What exactly do I think I’m going to do now?
This is fucked.
Daniels’ voice breaks through my thoughts. “Uh, care to explain why we are outside Koala Creek Primary School?”
“No.”
“You lost then, mate?”
“No.”
The truth is, I’ve driven here because my thoughts haven’t stopped since the fucking morning.
It’s doing my head in. I’ve never felt these emotions before, and rather than revel in them, I just want them gone .
I’ve tried to rationalise it, to convince myself that it’s just a concern. Concern for an innocent bystander who found themselves caught in a shitty situation yesterday. I’m just doing my due diligence by checking on said innocent bystander.
Yeah, that’s it.
“Just going to check up on something,” I say to Sebastian, my voice terse as I open the car door, but remain in my seat.
“What?” he says abruptly, turning his attention to me, away from his phone.
“Hop in the driver’s side. I’ll only be a few minutes or so,” I say back, not bothering to turn and face him. “Keep the car running.”
“What are you doing?”
“I just told you.” I grit my teeth, annoyed by his prying.
“I heard you… but is it something? Or someone ?” he quips with a raised brow. “Since when do we do personal check-ins? Is this something new I’m not aware of?”
Ignoring his queries, I step out onto the footpath. The schoolyard is deserted, a stillness settling over the scene. My footsteps echo in the quiet, each step amplifying the weight of my thoughts. I walk toward the entrance, feeling the gravity of the moment pressing down on me.
As I enter the school, the cool air of the hallway washes over me, a stark contrast to the warmth of the midday sun outside. I walk down the corridor, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m walking into something I can’t quite understand. An elderly woman at the front office desk spots me and stands up immediately, her expression tense. I realise that I momentarily forgot I’m in uniform, and she’s probably worried that something has happened.
“Oh! O-officer. Can I help ya?” she asks, her voice stuttering slightly.
“Sorry to rock up unannounced.” I nod to her. “My name is Officer Mitchell. I’m here to see one of your staff members.”
“Oh, dear. Is everything alright?” she inquires, her brow furrowing slightly .
“Quite alright. Just doing a brief check-up,” I reply, with a curt nod.
“Oh. I wasn’t aware we’d be needing one. Shall I fetch the principal for ya?”
“No. I was after a particular staff member.” Her eyes go wide as saucers, as she stutters a response back. I’m aware that as soon as I say this, it sounds very ambiguous.
“Nothing troubling at all. I didn’t mean to alarm you. Just checking in on them,” I reassure her.
“Righto. Who ya after?”
“Miss Brown.”
She smiles warmly and nods, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Ah, yes, Miss Amelia Brown. She’s currently in class, with her kindergartens. Just down the hall to ya left,” she says, pointing in the direction.
“Thank you.” I nod gratefully, starting to walk off in the direction she indicated, but before I can get far, she stops me, apologising.
“Hold on, where are my manners? Let me escort you.”
“No need. I can manage just fine,” I insist, but she shakes her head.
“Nonsense. I’ll walk ya, dear.”
As we approach the classroom door, the sounds of children’s laughter and squeals fill the hallways. The sounds cracking ever so slightly at my tough exterior, warming something inside me. Amidst their joyous laughter, my thoughts linger on Amelia, her face still vivid in my mind from yesterday’s ordeal. She’s just a bystander, caught in the chaos of a random incident, yet there’s something about her that pulls at me, something beyond duty or protocol.
I find myself wanting to ensure she’s alright, more than just a passing concern. It’s a tug at my conscience, a gnawing feeling that refuses to be ignored. The warmth I felt moments ago now mixes with a subtle flutter of nerves. It’s not just about the incident anymore; it’s about her well-being, her safety in a world where unpredictability lurks around every corner.
The office lady swings the door open, and I step into the room, immediately scanning for Amelia. What I see stops me in my tracks, my heart momentarily catching in my chest.
There she sits, poised at the front of the classroom, immersed in reading to a group of captivated children. For a fleeting second, my mind goes blank, and I forget why I’m here.
Her smile, gentle and genuine, softens her features as she brings the story to life with every word. All I can focus on is her—the way she interacts with the children, and the way she lights up the room.
It’s mesmerising, and I find myself unable to look away.