The next day, Janey, who was still depressed, decided to hunt for her mother's grave. When she was a child, there was a cemetery a few streets away, so she decided to look there first. She knew that her father was buried there. Thinking of her father, she had another thought - where was the photograph of her father? What about every single possession that the Morrisons had. Now that there was nobody left to claim them, what happened to everything? Janey assumed that everything that was there was packed up and taken away to a landfill or something. That made Janey even more depressed, since she had lost a very precious photograph of her father, and that was all that she had of him. Now there was nothing of him left. The only thing Janey had of her father was in her memory.
She walked around the graveyard, searching for her mother's grave, whilst walking up to her father's grave, thinking that they may have been buried together. When Janey got there, she saw her father's name, but not her mother's. Where was she buried? Janey could not give up. Her mother had to be in that cemetery! It was very large, but Janey insisted on looking at very grave until she came to her mother's. After about twenty minutes of searching, she came across her grandmother's grave. She knew that she must have been getting closer, since Winnie had died at practically the same time as Doris. Then, she found the grave. She saw the name "Doris Morisson". That was awful, since the surname had been spelled incorrectly. Then she saw the date of her death. That was definitely her. Janey then sat down and cried. She prayed for her mother, and started to talk to the grave.
"I can't believe you're here", said Janey, "I wish I didn't shoot myself, mother. I wish I didn't. I would have then came to your funeral and I would have visited your grave every day. I hope you're looking down and listening to me now. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. You have been waiting for over sixty years for me to come, and I didn't die. Hopefully, one day, I will be reunited with you".
Janey wanted nothing more but to see her mother's face again. She wished that she could just run up to her and cuddle her one more time. She missed her mother terribly, and the pain was not going to go away until she died herself. Again, she contemplated suicide, but she knew that there was work to be done. Stephen was still free, and nobody knew who he was. Janey planned on changing that. She would not rest until Stephen was behind bars for what he had done!
Janey then visited the police station. She wished that she had told the police when she was a child, but she was so messed up and so scared, that she couldn't.
"Yes?" asked the police officer at the desk.
"Ok", started Janey, "I know this may seem a little but strange to you, but I am here to report a rape that took place sixty years ago".
"Sixty years ago?"
"Yes. I don't know if you've heard of me before, but I have just recently come out of a sixty year coma".
"Is this a joke?"
"No! I'm serious! I was raped by Stephen Clapton, and he's still walking the streets today, I think!"
"You don't even know where he is?"
"No! He might be dead, but I don't know!"
"Ok, Janey? We'll look into it. So, what date did this rape take place?"
"Well, it was the day everything else happened, so it was the 16th of October, 1951".
"Are you sure?"
"And can you describe the events for me?" said the confused and shocked police officer.
"Yes...he took me into a back alley, and forced me on to the ground, and he forced me to keep quiet. It lasted for about a minute. Then, he told me if I told anyone, he would kill me. He then ran off, leaving me in the back alley".
"Ok, Janey. We'll see if this man is still alive".
Janey felt relieved that she had told somebody. Now, it may get sorted, once and for all! she thought to herself. She left the police station feeling happy with herself. She had seen and heard about victims of rape, and how they did not want to speak about it, but Janey was determined to see Stephen Clapton get sent down for what he did, and nothing was going to stop her, not even if she was a nervous wreck. She was unsure whether the police would take her seriously, however, but at least she had told somebody.
When Janey returned to her house, she realised that there were several people, some with notepads and pens, and others with television cameras and microphones. Janey almost instantly realised that this was the press!
"There she is!" cried one of the people.
Janey was then bombarded by people who were shouting her name, over and over again.
"I'll answer all your questions", said Janey, "but one at a time, please!"
"What does it feel like to be in 2012?" asked one person.
"It was very strange at first", replied Janey, "but I think I am slowly beginning to adapt to things here".
"Do you regret shooting yourself?"
"Of course I do!"
"Why did you shoot yourself?" asked another reporter.
"Because at the time, I was messed up, and my head was all over the place. I had nothing left!"
"Do you still feel like you have the mind of a fourteen year old girl?"
"I think that I've grown up a little since then. I don't know how, but I feel like I am an adult now".
"What does it feel like to be a world record holder for the longest person ever in a coma?"
"I don't know. What is it supposed to feel like?" laughed Janey.
"You're famous", said another reporter, "what's it like to be famous?"
Janey thought for a moment, and then shrugged her shoulders. "I'll have to wait and see", she said.
"One more question", said the reporter, "what do you miss most about your life in the 1950s?"
Janey stood and remained silent for a few seconds. "I miss my family", she replied, "and it's as simple as that".
Janey then left the reporters and went inside the house. She then thought long and hard about her mother. Day by day, she wanted to be with her again. She would have given anything to see her just one more time. Janey knew that perhaps, she should not have woken up. Her head was starting to be all over the place again, just like it was on that fateful day.
© Copyright 2017 declan mckimm. All rights reserved.
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