Finding Her Again (1)

She closes her eyes as she sinks into the leather couch, letting its comforting scent envelop her. The stress began to melt away instantly. All the people around her didn't even matter; their voices becoming more distant by the second. None of it matters.. not anymore. The only things in her world was this couch and the smell of leather that overwhelmed her.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, are you alright?"

"Is she unconscious?"

"Should we call the paramedics in?"

No matter how far she slipped those voices always came rushing back. Trying to break down the door of her mind, refusing to go home. Why were they here again?

Slowly, opening her eyes, she stared at the large group of people crowding her house. A couple were hanging by the door, watching who came in and out. Some were in her living room, surrounding her, and looking at each other with uneasy glances. They didn't matter. What did matter were the five people in her kitchen with cameras. All taking pictures of her floors, walls, and that old table she couldn't bear to throw out.

"Who-" She started. Her back straightened as she became aware of how many people were in her home, violating her privacy. What the hell were they doing in here? Anger slipped in to her calmness, chasing it away.

"Ma'am. I'm going to have to ask you to calm down." The man in front of her stated, no emotion, almost annoyed. His hand was on her shoulder pushing her down, preventing her from getting up.

She looked up at him, eyes narrowed. How dare he place his hands on her. Balling up her fists it took all of her will power to prevent from hitting this man in his pinched and pointed face.

Even as she sunk back down into the couch his hands remained on her. They were large and swollen. Her shoulder taking up only a tiny space in his bear-like palm. His nails her cut down to stubs with no dirt underneath them. There were no calluses or cuts in sight.

Prissy, manicured prick.

"We have to ask you a few questions, ma'am. Your full cooperation is required." A voice out of her line of sight spoke aloud but she didn't turn towards the source of the sound. She couldn't take her eyes of the hands of the man in front of her. "Do you remember what your attacker looked like?"

Attacker?

Now she did look at the woman who spoke to her. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, no hair out of place. Dark lipstick with an equally dark suit to match; this woman had no friendly or calming gesture to offer her. All business.

She felt her eyebrows furrow together and the edges of her lips turn down. This woman was absurd. She had no idea what she was talking about. There was no attacker. All day she had been home, cleaning the house, reading, watching over her grand daughter-

"Where's Isie?" Panic started to set in. How could she forget all about that beautiful baby girl? She was a horrible grandmother. "Where's my grand daughter?" Her voice growing louder.

The people around seemed to notice her for the first time and stopped what they were doing. The man who had his hand on her shoulder now gripped her, pushing her down to the couch. The lady who was speaking to her moments before now stood up as well, her face still unchanging.

"Ma'am, that is what we are trying to figure out." The woman spoke a little louder than necessary. "We need to know about the person who attacked you. We believe he is the one who took her grand daughter."

Now she took a closer look at what the men in her kitchen were photographing. Why they were there. Glass was everywhere. Her vase of roses that Daniel gave to her last week were destroyed, thrown all over the kitchen. Drawers were pulled open and silverware littered the floor. Why had she not seen this earlier? Didn't she just clean that darn kitchen this morning?

Something didn't add up in her mind. Last thing she remembered was sitting down after hours of cleaning. When did all these people come in? Why is her house a disarray? Why weren't they telling her where Isie was?

"She's in shock."

"You're right, she won't' be much help. Take her to St. Belle's to get checked out. We'll see her again later."

"Yes sir."

The man's hands left her shoulder, a cold rush of air replacing the empty space. Suddenly hands grabbed at her arms and started pulling her up and away from the safety of her couch, her home. No one would tell her anything.

"You guys had better be quick," she snapped irritatingly. "I put Isie down to sleep an hour ago. She'll wake up and be hungry soon."