"You know...She never complained. Not once when I was there...She would cry. But she would never complain."
The detective looked over at the boy. The line fell from his mouth so quickly. Like he had been thinking of it for some time. If he squinted hard enough, it almost felt like a question. It was odd-sounding for a 17-year-old. Devoid of any emotion. The cop hadn't expected it to sound so unsympathetic. But that was Oki.
Oki looked down at the white foam cup in front of him. It was filled with a dark roast, one he had become accustomed to since he lived alone. Usually, he would drink from it, but a pit in his stomach stopped him. He couldn't. Not when he felt empty. If his scumbag father taught him anything, it was never to take a drink from a cop anyway. A cop couldn't be trusted. Anytime a cop was around him, Oki's body shifted to one that exuded confidence. He had nothing to hide, and he wasn't afraid of him. But he could tell the detective wouldn't budge at his tough guy act—nothing he hadn't seen before.
Oki looked upwards, the middle-aged man in front of him staring him down. "...I know," Fredrick said. He brought the hot coffee to his lips and took a small sip. This was one of the only times Oki wasn't detained today. "She never said a word growing up too." He could feel Oki stare intensely at him. It bore holes into his head.
Even to an outsider, Theresa had many chances to leave. To those who didn't know her, her death was untimely and out of nowhere.
"...Should I hate her, Freddie?" Oki asked, finally releasing his gaze away from Fredrick and down to the coffee. Fredrick knew this question was a long time coming. The detective closed his eyes, putting his whole weight on a filing cabinet. He closed his eyes, "I wouldn't blame you if you did, kid."
Oki gave a small sigh, shoving his hands in his sweater pockets. "...Were you there?" Oki asks.
"No."
"Figures." There was nothing either could do, and Oki knew that. "And that's supposed to mean..what? I should always be around?"
"How many times does a man have to beat his wife and post bail for you guys to.."
Fredrick slammed his handcuffs on the table. His long black hair framed his emotionless face well. If nobody knew better, they would say Oki and Fredrick looked alike. It was silent for a full minute. "In case you've forgotten, Oki...He was in jail for five years. Your mother took him right back when he got out. You left for that reason alone."
Oki hadn't realized it, but he was standing now. His hands were on the table, and while his tone was deadpan, he could feel it. He could feel himself getting angry. "...I know."
"Devoid my ass, Oki. You know why this happened. She didn't want help." Fredrick watched as Oki's head dropped. He fell back on the chair himself. Fredrick stood back up straight. "...Maybe you should move in with Lilah and me." Oki scoffed, "What? I get angry for my mother, and suddenly I'm unstable?"
"That's not what I meant. Listen, Oki. I've cared for you since you were born. I couldn't protect your mother the same way I could protect you. It's just not a good idea for you to live alone. Especially after this."
Oki looked at the metal table. He shook his head. "No. It would be useless anyway. I can figure it out myself."
Fredrick couldn't say anything after that. He scratched his beard, knowing Oki was smart enough not to blame him for something he couldn't control. But he couldn't help but worry.
"Can I go now?" Oki asked.
"Lemme give you a ride." The detective offered.
"I don't need one. See you, Fred." Oki stood up from the table and turned away from the man. He exited the room and out of the building. He knew the way out like the back of his hand.
Fredrick looked at the full cup left on the table. He grabbed it and tossed the contents of it into the sink. In a sick twisted way, he knew the moment Theresa met Lewis; his sister was broken beyond repair. Maybe even before that too. She didn't want to be fixed; if that meant dying to stay, so be it.
What he could not, or would refuse to understand, was why, for so long did, she want to drag his nephew down into the pits of her despair and chaos. If she genuinely didn't feel alone and afraid of her monster, why did his sister wish for Oki to suffer with her? Freddie reached for a cigarette, placing it gently on his lips and holding the flame to burn. "...I guess it's something she'll take to the grave." He exhaled the smoke. "Fucking psycho."
Oki can't express himself in the way he would like.
This always leads to fights and misunderstandings. It's been like this for as long as he could remember.
One night doesn't lead to misunderstandings or even fights. It opens a door for him.
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