8. Police Report pt. 2

3.1K 56 15
                                    

Brooke's POV:
"Twenty-one, Brooke Jones, August twelfth nineteen ninety-six," I answered.

"Very good. Now, Miss Jones, can you describe to us how Chris got into your dorm? Was there any forced entry?" The officer asked.

I shook my head. "No, I sat down to do my homework and eat dinner and he knocked on the door. I thought he, he um might have wanted to see James so I let him in and told him James was, was uh at the gym."

"Okay, then what? Were you both drinking?"

A second officer was scribbling into his notebook.

"He, no, we weren't drinking at all. He told me that, that he didn't want to see James," I paused and blinked back tears. I took a deep breath and squeezed James's hand. "He shut and locked the door and told me that he didn't come to see James, and before I could respond he, he uhm..." I trailed off mid-sentence.

"I see. And you didn't give him any signals or mislead him in any way, correct?"

"Are you kidding me?" I pushed my chair back and stood up angrily. I slammed my hands on the desk the officer was sitting at. "If I was letting him touch me do you think I'd be covered in bruises and scratches?"

James gently tugged my arm to get me to sit down. The officer apologized and explained he just needed all of the facts.

"He pulled me against him really tight, then he started kissing me and I kept telling him to stop. Then he threw me onto my bed and started touching me and covering my mouth. I felt dehumanized. I felt like I was some fucking blow up doll," I stated. I was clenching my fist so tightly that my nails impaled my palm and I started bleeding. James quickly got up to get me a bunch of napkins and the detective handed me a couple band aids.

I began to whimper. Then whimpering turned into crying. Crying to sobbing.

The photographer handed me tissues but everyone else kept watching.

"Can you excuse us, please," James asked everyone. The crowd got up and left and I threw my head onto James's chest. I sobbed harder than I've sobbed before.

"It was so scary, James," I cried. He held me and listened. "He wouldn't stop. I felt so weak and helpless. It was so, so embarrassing," I said in between sobs.

***

I eventually calmed down and the officers and detective came back in and took their seats.

"Are you ready to talk again?" One of them asked me. I nodded and wiped my eyes.

"We're going to bring Chris in here to tell his story," A cop began.

"No! Don't bring him anywhere near me!" I scream with actual terror. My knees were weak and my palms were sweaty. "I can't see him or be in the same room as him."

I started to have a panic attack but James was able to calm me down.

"Hey, hey look at me," he told me. "You're going to be okay. He can't hurt you. I'll be right here."

I took some deep breaths and calmed down after a moment.

"Alright, let him in," I said.

Chris walked in looking more beaten up than me. He had a throbbing black eye, dried blood on his nose, a large gash on his lip and more bruises on his neck. He had really taken a beating but he deserved it.

"Good morning, Mr. Johnson, please follow Mrs. Felderman into the back room to take photographs for evidence," the officer instructed. Chris followed the photographer with a slight limp and we waited in silence. I flinched every time I heard the loud camera click.

He walked back out and took a seat in the last empty chair next to James. I squeezed James's hand tightly and he gave me a reassuring look.

He mouthed the words It's going to be okay and I took another deep breath and listened to what Chris had to say.

"Mr. Johnson, please state your name, age, and date of birth for the record."

"Alright, I'm Christopher Johnson, age twenty one, and I was born on January fourth nineteen ninety-six," he answered.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson. Now, please, describe to us how you got into the dorm-room that Miss Jones was in."

"So I left my room and noticed that James at just left to go to the gym. So I walked over and thought I would chill with Brooke so she wasn't alone. I knocked on her door and she got up and asked if I was here to see James or something and I told her I was going to hang with her. So we got to talking and she kissed me and started taking off all her clothes-" Chris lied.

I stood up and faced him and screamed in his face, "You fucking liar! That is not what happened and you damn well know it!"

He stood up and faced me and I got flashbacks. Chills ran down my spine and I stared him in the face.

"Both of you sit, now," A detective ordered. We sat down and James reached over to hold my hand.

"Chris, please continue," a lady taking notes asked without looking up from her notebook.

"So she stood in front of me all naked and, I won't lie, she looked great," Chris continued.

I gagged.

"So what was I supposed to do? This incredibly hot, naked chick is in front of me, and you're saying it's rape because I screwed her?" Chris exclaimed.

"Wait a second," James began. All eyes were on him. "You're saying she stripped completely naked when you got there?"

"Yes."

"Well, then how come when I got home her bra was still on and you were pulling off her underwear?" James asked. Chris stuttered.

Oh my god. He saved me. He proved Chris was a liar. He's proving me right!

"And I'm sorry but I personally think it's disgusting that you're letting him talk like this in front of Brooke! And if Brooke was consenting to sex with Chris, why is she covered in bruises and marks showing she was held down forcefully?" James continued.

"Mr. Fields, is it?" A detective asked James. James nodded.

"Can you tell us what you saw when you came home that evening?"

"Of course. I was at the gym and I came home around eleven or twelve I can't remember. I saw Brooke's homework was out and unfinished and so was her dinner which was very odd. I closed and locked the door then heard Brooke scream my name at the top of her lungs so I threw my gym bag down and ran to the beds and saw Chris standing over her holding her down and pulling off her underwear. So I pushed Chris off of her and beat the crap out of him," James explained. A tear trailed down my cheek and I held James's hand tightly.

"Mr. Johnson, you have the right to remain silent. You are under arrest and will be prosecuted for sexual assault against Miss. Jones," an officer explained as he put handcuffs on Chris.

I got justice.

The Bad Boy's RoommateWhere stories live. Discover now