The Full Ridiculous by Mark Lamprell

look at his stupid, mean, ordinary face and it sickens you, the power he has over your girl. He explains that Rosie can either write a statement or make a verbal statement which would be recorded, transcribed, then printed out for her verification. Either version would be signed by her, then witnessed and signed by her parents. He adds that if she makes a verbal statement, he will have to transcribe it himself and then, attempting levity— how dare he make light of this, the fucker —he says he’s not a very good typist so that could take a while.
    Rosie opts for writing a statement herself. Constable Johnstone warns her to make sure her handwriting is nice and clear, otherwise she’ll have to revert to the recorded option. She takes the pen in her ink-stained fingers and pauses over a sheet of unlined paper. Rosie looks up and asks where to begin.
    All three adults answer her at once, overlapping, offering the same advice: start with when, where and who. Constable Johnstone repeats the information then admonishes you and Wendy because you’re not supposed to prompt Rosie. You apologise.
    You apologise.
    Pathetic loser that you are, you actually apologise to this cunt who is tormenting your daughter. A monstrous rage rises within you. It fills the room until it bursts through the door, a tsunami of hatred, pouring down the corridor, sweeping everyone in its path, dissolving them, writhing and screaming, in agonising acid.
    Or something like that.
    More than an hour passes as you all sit there in silence—bar the odd grunt or sniff—as Rosie pens her statement in a clear, elegant hand. Eventually the room becomes less threatening, less claustrophobic; normal even. Your palms stop sweating and you relax to the point of boredom. Page after page appears until, just when it feels like she’s never going to stop writing, Rosie stops writing.
    Constable Johnstone is not a fast reader. It takes him a long time to get through Rosie’s six-page statement. Finally he looks up at Rosie and says, ‘I don’t think you’re being very truthful.’
    Startled, Rosie replies, ‘But that’s what happened.’
    ‘I don’t think it is.’
    ‘Well it is .’
    ‘I think you made some comments about the other girl’s race.’
    ‘Her race? What race?’
    ‘Racist comments.’
    ‘I—I didn’t, I wouldn’t. I’m not a racist.’
    ‘And I think you said some other things that you haven’t put here.’
    ‘That’s what happened, everything that happened.’
    ‘I think you punched and kicked that girl a lot more than once.’
    ‘I didn’t!’
    ‘I think you did.’
    ‘Well, it’s not true! If that’s what Eva says…’
    ‘It’s not just Eva. I have statements.’
    ‘Statements?’
    ‘From witnesses.’
    ‘Witnesses? Who?’
    ‘I can’t tell you that!’
    As soon as Constable Johnstone raises his voice to Rosie, Wendy takes control of the conversation. He claims to have seven sworn statements swearing that Rosie punched and kicked Eva several times before she was peeled off her. He wants Rosie to amend her statement to include this, otherwise he may be forced to take matters further.
    Privately you wonder:
    (a) why Rosie’s version of events is so different from the other witnesses, and
    (b) are there really seven sworn statements from other witnesses?
    Sobbing with outrage, Rosie refuses to amend a word of her statement. She insists she is telling the truth. Constable Johnstone tells her she is being foolish. Rosie’s anguish escalates and she says tearfully that he can put her in prison—she’s not changing her statement.
    You say, ‘Enough,’ and Wendy says, ‘She’s not changing the statement.’
    Constable Johnstone says, ‘Wait here,’ and looks at you all like he’s leaving to assemble a firing squad.
    A half hour goes by while you wait, consoling Rosie and reading through her statement with Wendy. Despite the traumatic circumstances, Rosie has been lucid and concise in her reconstruction of events