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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2211402-Runaway
by Zehzeh
Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2211402
A trafficked refugee chose freedom.
'I'd rather not come out from behind the bush, Officer.'

'Yes, madam. Out here, please.'

'I have a problem, Officer.'

'Explain it to me where I can see you.'

'Trust me, you don't want to see me.'

'I've been a copper for ten years. Even if you were naked and painted with purple spots, I would not be surprised. Seen it all before.'

'Green and yellow.'

'Pardon?'

'The spots. They're green and yellow.'

'R-i-i-i-ght...'

'It's my age. And the full moon.'

'I see madam. Werewolf are we?'

'That would be soooo simple. Full moon, quick transmorph, gobble up a few bodies and back to normal. No problems.'

'Errrrm.'

'Apart from the clothes, of course.'

'Quite so, madam. Is there a doctor or therapist I could contact?'

'I don't think you'll be able to reach them at the moment. Not that it matters, it would take some considerable time for them to get the message. I'd probably be dead by then.'

'I see. Have you taken something harmful?'

'Only freedom. But I miscalculated the route and ended up here. I shouldn't have dumped my clothes but there's a tracker built into it.'

'PC Jones requesting ambulance and back-up, Sergeant. I got a right one here.'

'Who are you talking to Officer?'

'Just reporting in to the station, madam. Now, why don't you come out here on to the path and we can have a chat?'

'I told you. I dumped my suit. I don't have a stitch on. Stupid man.'

'Keep calm madam. We'll soon have you warm and cosy. A nice cuppa tea and a biscuit will do wonders.'

'Quite frankly, Officer, I don't think warm and cosy will come into it. And tea and biscuits won't be enough for you to recover from the shock.'

'Nothing that a nice cup of rosy won't fix. PC Jones requesting immediate attendance, silent approach.'

'Rosy? And I don't need an ambulance, nor will sirens bother me.'

'Rosy Lee - tea, madam. Aren't you feeling a bit chilly? It's a cold night.'

'Oh, yes. Rhyming slang. I studied it briefly when I was learning to speak. No, I'm rather warm, actually. I come from a cold climate.'

'You've not been in this country long, then?'

'I landed a couple of hours ago after I - uh - legged it - when the master's back was turned.'

'The master's back?'

'My owner. At least he was until I ran away.'

'You were being trafficked? PC Jones here. Where's my back up? I have a possible trafficking victim here. There may be others in the vicinity. No Sergeant. I have no idea how many.'

'Several thousand, Officer. But they'll be lightyears away by now. There's only me. Naked and unarmed.'

'That's alright then. There's only me here, in my uniform and unarmed. Come on out and we can sit on that bench and wait for my colleagues.'

'Very well. I'll come out. Don't say I didn't warn you.'

'Oh. My. God.'


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2211402-Runaway