CHAPTER 7 - Rock, Paper, News PREVIEW
Despair was too strong of a word to describe the current police station. The officers who were working at desks looked ritualistic. Their faces were trained, studied to deal with the incoming situations. Those answering the numerous calls answered with a practiced hello and responded succinctly. Those working on paper work didn't look up from their pages, instead hanging their heads low as they scribbled reports. And those who were working the field were prepping their equipment, strapping ebony steel onto themselves, patting each piece to check that it is secure, and maybe a little for lucky.
Yet the officers rushing in and out the door spared no effort to even acknowledge Kya. Spared no thought to take notice of the constant ringing, or the shuffles of pages, or the yells of enraged criminals that came fighting by.
This wasn't the sort of routine that was practiced. This sort of routine is adopted when people are trying to cope.
Kya has managed her fair share of psychological patients. She wasn't specialized in therapy, but instead, helped with the physical effects stress or trauma affecting the body. Muscle soreness, strain, lack of sleep, and very rarely self harm. Kya has seen this before. Strained voices through raspy throats, heads hung a little too low into pages of reports, complete avoidance of eye contact. But Kya has never seen this reflected in an entire room.
This wasn't despair. Despair would suggest a lost of hope, a lack of action. There was action, and though it certainly wasn't hope, everyone here was moving forward and that was something. Everyone? Looking closer, you could count the numerous empty chairs scattered throughout the office. You could feel the unwanted barren presence of missing people.
Yet, everyone here treated the empty space like an entity. No one moved the chairs, the items on top of the desks remained untouched. Not even a wondering glance made its way towards the spaces. Maybe they were afraid to see a dark presence looking back. Maybe they were afraid to see that no one was going to looking back, not who they wanted to see. Maybe it was the photos of families that remained untouched on desks collecting dust. Sometimes, it was easier not to ask.
Kya could feel her body's intense discomfort, and willed her breathe to ease itself. First she unclenched her hands, sparing the soup of her death grip. Then she rolled her shoulders back, opening her chest to allow air easier access to her lungs. Steps, walking forward. She needed to move, Lin's office was right ahead. But the momentum of ease stopped dead when she saw the door of Lin's office. Well, what was left of her office door.
The elegant structure of the door frame was intact, minus the rugged hinged than hung precariously from it's usual spot. The door itself thought, was nearly torn completely off the frame. Warped in a way like wallpaper is from walls, almost drooping to the floor, begging to be let down. It bowed apologetically into the police station, as if to ask for forgiveness. Kya wondered if it was asking on Lin's behave.
The door was ripped multiple times, by what looked like pieces of metal. Wait. Ebony steel. Lin's armour.
And suddenly, Kya found herself in front of the door, unsure of when her legs decided to move. Not daring to look inside, unsure of how to knock, Kya closed her eyes and breathed slowly.
"Lin?" Kya hated the vulnerability resounding in her voice, resenting her hesitation to call out. What was she afraid of?
"Kya?" Came a stern voice from within the room, undoubtedly belonging to Lin. The door screeched across the floor, crying in disagreement to be moved. Behind Kya, she could feel the entire station stop, and as if being thrown the weight of a building, she felt the presence of the entire room staring at her. Staring past her and into the room before her. Looking not for her, but looking for the same woman she was looking for. And then, as if time itself hadn't stopped, the moment past and the staring ended. Yet the weight remained as Kya walking to the room, and as the door screeched back into place.
With dire resistance, the door screamed as it uncurled itself, trying to resemble a door once more. Failing to resemble a door. Instead it now stood distorted, in a form of false confidence.
A hideous mask to hide behind.
HELLO - I am so sorry. School has been crazy. Please know that I have not stopped thinking about you or this story. Time and life has not permitted I continue. I'm taking a lighter semester so hopefully I'll have more time! Here's a preview for the chapter I was writing before the hiatus. Unfortunately, I wrote this fic 6-ish months ago so some of my ideas for this piece are lost, and my writing will be different. No less, the story will continue! Please bare with me and the hiatuses. And thank you for all those who never lost hope in me or this piece! I won't let you down. Here's to Lin and Kya, and writers and readers! Have a fantastic 2017!
