Work Text:
..."So you know something about Militsioner?" You asked. Budging your chair closer to the eccentric.
"Oh yeah. Some years ago. HE was in fact stationed around here." - The Strange Girl looked enthused to talk about it. But was showing definite signs of nervousness as she pushes her hair back. Self-grooming.
"I was not only fortunate enough to see The Giant. I actually was caught up, under suspicions of a crime."
[The Strange Girl takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before diving into the story...]
Yes. On that day the sun finally fell into the large void between two council houses.
I left the room quickly.
Telling no one of my plan.
Because. Every day I had this strained feeling. As both people and architecture worked together to unconsciously restrict me from seeing the sun set as frequently as I desired.
I took off to look at the sky from the roof of my shed. - The silly little way I desired to see the sky that day. - That was a break through moment for me.
Alone on the flat roof of a big boxy shed.
The sun’s radiance now unhindered by my awful white walls.
Its light un-mottled by trees or that green crust that coats my windows.
I lied upon a comforting dirty roof. Propped amongst the heavy plant pots and tall grass reeds of the shed’s roof garden. Blissfully hidden from the local neighbours.
Until… I. Found myself stuck.
Looking over the edge of the roof, down at the collapsed, rackety, wooded ladder and the hoard of garbage circling the building. I just about recoiled. -
Palms tingling. Jumping from that height was going to be difficult.
Dangling off the edge of the building and dropping down wasn't an option. Rusty nails jut out from the brick work and and all the windows of the shed were smashed. I'd have been cut up trying. And thrown feet first into the mountain of metal garbage.
My best course of action was to make a running jump towards a small clearing amongst the refuse. Although the reality of landing only to trip on a bike or being scraped by a rotary washing line prong on my descent towards the garden floor kept me on the roof.
I was happy seeing the sun set.
I was distressed being stuck on that cold roof.
And as soon as I called for help.
I became mortified.
My neighbour was in her garden. And when I reached out for her help. For her to get my parents to realise I was stuck on the roof.
She terrified me with her irrational response.
“DO YOU WANT ME TO CALL THE POLICE?” She cried out.
Curse this woman! She doesn’t recognise me?
Am I really that much of a shut in?
I’m stuck on a roof!
Why call the police!
I was not stupid. I really wasn’t foolish.
I felt safe. Because I was in my own damn back garden.
Then every now and then, when I think back on it - I say to myself my only mistake. My only 'crime'. Was being noticed.
I didn't require HIS intervention. I stepped outside only because I was tired of being parentally monitored. Spending time restricted by the white frame of my miniature bed room window.
And suddenly an unrecognised, unexpected 11 year old loitering in their own back garden was cause for alarm.
Backing up into the potted reeds of the roof garden.
I felt an awful sensation.
Gasping and clenching my teeth.
The sky darkened.
Screw the pain of a poor landing.
I sprung forwards.
Not wanting anything to do with-
[She pauses for dramatic effect.]