This Is Me: Kay's Story
Nessa Monroe
Kay Bennett was one of those tall, willowy brunettes; gorgeous -- and just mean enough that you knew she was one of the popular ones. She had hazel eyes, olive skin, and a pouty smile that caught every guys' attention.
But she didn't want every guy's attention.
She sat tonight perched on the corner of a wooden fence that surrounded her house, a quilt wrapped around her that didn't quite dispel the cold night air, and a cup of steaming hot chocolate in her hands. Those were the things she'd asked for when they'd tried to comfort her.
The police officer in front of her gave her a look that told her he didn't really believe her. Kay could understand why. She lowered her eyes to the ground and did not look at him, even when he spoke to her.
"Kay..." His voice was hesitant, kind of a sigh, a disappointed whisper. Like he was talking to a child who was making up stories.
"It's your word against his. What makes you think that anyone's going to believe you?"
It wasn't that she hadn't expected this. She had. But tears came to her eyes nevertheless. She looked up at him finally, that mean spirit back. She wasn't innocent. She was anything but.
But in this case, she was.
"Because, Officer Grey," she finally said, in a calm voice. "I kept a diary."
She smiled at his startled expression, but only a little bit.
"You were eight," he commented disbelievingly.
"Seven and a half. So what?"
He narrowed his eyes at her, Officer Grey with his gray eyes. "And you can actually comprehend it?"
Kay laughed a mirthless laugh. "I didn't even remember that it had happened. I only started to when I read the diary." Her face went deadly serious, and she set the mug down and jumped to the ground, wrapping the blanket further around her. "Listen to me. They fu**ed with my mind all these years, and you're telling me you don't believe me." She pointed a finger at him, right at his chest. "You better do something about this."
Officer Grey nodded. He looked pissed. She would be, too. But then again, she would have believed a nineteen-year-old girl with the evidence she had.
"So where's this diary?"
Kay had left it on her bedroom dresser. She'd gone to the police almost immediately. After she'd cried, a lot, letting the memories come back to her. They had taken him away. It was shameful. His blue eyes had lingered on her as he'd gotten into the back of the cruiser, all ice and hatred. She'd glared at him, too. They had never been close, but she'd never have thought he would do something like that to her.
"In my room," she said quietly.
"We'll have to look at it. We can't keep him, Kay. He can get bail. You know that." Officer Grey sighed, shaking his head. "This is a bad day for Harmony."
Kay's eyes snapped to his, locking there. "For Harmony? What about for me?"
Officer Grey didn't answer. He tapped his pen against his notepad and shook his head again. "Well, if you need anything..."
"Right," she interrupted, looking away.
"Yeah. Get that diary to me tonight." He left then, looking back at her once. She glared at him. He wasn't much help. None of them would be. She knew that.
The police system was corrupt in any small town, and it was especially corrupt if you knew the officers. She knew them all, but she didn't have as much pull as he did, so it would get her nowhere.
Slowly, the cruisers disappeared into the night, and she watched them go. Then she grabbed her hot chocolate and went into her empty house. It was big and dark and lonely. She wished for Miguel. She wished her cousin was there. She and Charity laughed a lot together. She even wished for nerdy Reese Durkee, who couldn't take no for an answer.
Kay went up to her room and grabbed the diary, scanning the cover. It was cheap, probably only a dollar, but it was thick and flowery. She sat down on the bed and opened it to the first page. She would read it again before taking it to the station. It had been so hard reading it the first time, remembering everything. A tear slipped down her cheek as she started it a second time. She wiped it away, and swore she would not cry this time.
February 18, 1992
Dear Diary....