B E L L O N A C A M P B E L L

KRIS

‘What would be your proudest moment?’ I asked laying down beside my mother. Watching the stars, they looked like a thousand eyes watching us with utter glee, their sparkle was mesmerising. I breathed in inhaling the fresh air of nature.

‘Maybe when I see you growing up.’ She answered in her soothing voice, holding my hand, she brushed her lips on it lightly.

‘Is this every mother’s moment of proudness?’

‘Yes but not every mother is born the same way.’

I never understood this statement neither could I now. We laid like that for a few hours, laughing at our own delusions, in our own World which contained so much happiness, so much peace.

But it was the last time I saw her laugh, after that the dark clouds took over my family, just like the mist she was gone. Not away from the World but who she was, her personality, her laughs, her smile they all were gone. She was like a living corpse on a wheelchair waiting for their death. But still the thought of losing her kept me awake at night, it brought tears to my eyes. Making nightmares appear, making me weak. I am just ageing in the memory of my loved ones not living, just breathing.

I snapped from my thoughts as victor clapped in-front of my eyes, I glared at him as he chuckled.

'Who are you daydreaming about?’

'Did you bring the files?' I queried clearing my throat.

'I did.' He responded sitting down on one of the seats.

Opening the brown folder he pushed some files towards me, they were all dusty. Stacked on one of another, stained papers that were never opened. I took the first one, flipping each page as my father's information came across. Detailing every thing.

It was an unexplainable feeling that took over me, I was reading a person's murder history and that happened to be my father.

'Two stabs in the chest followed by bruises on the body...left side ribs broken, right hand index finger, middle finger and the thumb broken. According to the medical forensic reports he was assaulted right before his death.'

Victor read it all in front of me. It was the first time I read it all, these files were lost. They never came across me, 10 years ago when my father got murdered I was too young to find out what had happened, police had eventually gave up on the case because to them it was ‘bizarre’. When I grew up the files were no more there, the person that had them in his possession passed away and I had no authority to ask for the files.

A small knock on the door intruded us both as I looked up to see Officer Halter standing, he was a sincere Officer working for a long time, dressed in his uniform, his eyes were diverted to my friend. Victor stood and welcomed him in. Greeting Officer Halter I raised an eyebrow at Victor not knowing why Halter came.

‘Kris, Victor told me about your father’s story. I have been working for the past 18 year..spent time in London, was sent off to Kenya and now here.’ He smiled at me, patting my shoulders, he gestured me to sit.

‘He knows something.’ Victor whispered beside me.

‘I had my posting in London at that time and I have heard about this...I know how the authorities swept it under the rug.’ He opened a folder, pulling out papers scribbled with words. Going through them he handed one page to me, precisely of a newspaper.

I could see the headline, 55 year old businessman murdered in his home.

My father, this was the day.

‘There were twenty cases similar to this one.’ He pulled out several other cutouts with headlines of gruesome murders. I was petrified, frozen in my seat. Cases of children to adults, innocent people became victim of such cruelty and the murderer was never caught. I sat there puzzled, my eyes scanning the other pages.

‘And I am afraid to say that these murders are on the loose again.’

'Jesus! there are plenty he killed!' Victor exclaimed reading the names.

Officer’s Halter’s radio beeped, making him alerted. ‘sorry boys I gotta go.’ He spoke in his deep voice before scooting away.

We read those names one by one, each one contained a story, a sad one of grief and sorrow, of injustice and cruelty. The crooks made me furious. I hunched in my seat, putting my head down on the desk. My palms fisted with tiredness and sweat dripped off my forehead.

'Here here! This is a recent one. It's in London.' Victor exclaimed from his chair bringing my attention. He coughed violently turning the page for me.

I peeked from behind reading the article.

'50 year old woman stabbed in chest. Bruised body found at home-

'It's the same shit.' Victor mumbled.

January 15th 2019,a body was found in the victim’s home, stabbed to death the family consisting of only a daughter who by profession said to be a police detective. She wished for a full autopsy and further investigation but the case was closed in February as their was no required evidence to lawfully punish the culprit.

‘Who is the daughter?’

‘Someone named Bellona Campbell.’

Bellona Campbell.