RORSCHACH'S JOURNAL- April 14th, 1982
This city had a choice. They could have followed in the footsteps of good men, like my father or President Truman. Decent men, who believed in a day's work for a day's pay. Instead, they followed the droppings of lechers and communists and didn't realize that the trail led over a precipice until it was too late. Don't tell me they didn't have a choice. Now the whole world stands on the brink, staring down into bloody hell, all those liberals and intellectuals and smooth talkers... and all of a sudden nobody can think of anything to say.
Passed couple fornicating in alley tonight. Felt sick to my stomach. Something was wrong though, more so than should be. Against better judgment, I turned and took another glance. Girl was struggling, trying to scream. Boy held her down, covered her mouth. Are people so immoral and desensitized that no one else had stopped and taken that second glance? And even if they had, would anyone else have done anything to stop what was happening to that girl?
Soon as I pulled his disgusting carcass off her, she disappeared. The man is dead now, bleeding all over the alley floor. I turn to leave, she is still there. Huddled between alley wall and dumpster. Crying. Anyone else would have run. She is sitting there, numb, possibly in shock. I step toward her and she flinches out of her trance, staring up at me with fear. "I'm not going to hurt you," I say "Are you alright?" She looks down, toward the scum on the floor. Looks blank, like she is unsure. "Are you hurt?" I ask again. Her eyes snap back to my face. She says nothing, but the collar of blouse is pulled aside, just enough to expose a long fresh wound extending from bottom of throat to shoulder end of collarbone. Registers now that bastard had a knife.
"C'mon. Hospital," I say. She shakes her head. I don't argue. Needs medical treatment though. Joey nearby and Dreiberg can help. I take her by the elbow to help her up, but when I let go, her legs collapse under her. I catch her. Now that she is standing, leaning on me for support, I notice she is small. Very small, fragile. I carry her to Joey's cab and he drives. She sits there, still crying silently. I say nothing. Get to Daniel's house, Joey opens door. Daniel is sitting on couch, stands up, looks surprised. Why? Why does he always look surprised? Hasn't he learned to expect this by now?
"Raped," I say in response to the question forming on Daniel's face. Girl lets out noise halfway between a sob and a hiccup. Daniel nods, leads me to couch. I set the girl down. She clings to my sleeve for about a second before I straighten and move out of the way for Daniel. This intrigues me. Why is she not afraid of me? Must investigate further.
"Miss, my name is Daniel," he says kindly "Can you tell me who you are?"
"M-Molly," she stammers. Her voice is clear but shaky "Molly Reagan,"
"Molly, what happened?"
Molly takes deep breath, shudders. "I was walking home," she begins "From the school,"
"Are you in High School?" She shakes her head again.
"I'm- I'm a teacher. Literature,"
Daniel looks surprised, but only for a moment. I'm surprised too. She looks too young.
"How old are you, Molly?"
"Do you know who it was who did this to you?"
"Doesn't matter," I say "He's dead,"
"Oh Jesus, Rorschach, why do-"
"He was a student," Molly interrupts Dreiberg, fresh tears forming. Daniel looks back at her, clear shock on his face. "A student? One of your students?" She nods.
"He came to me, after school. He was upset about a grade, on his midterm. H-He needed the class to graduate. When I told him there was nothing I could do, he started... He started shouting. I had security escort him out. Then when I was walking home, he... he cornered me in the alley, and... he h-had a knife. He said he w-was going to change my m-mind for me,"
She chokes out the last sentence like it hurts. Daniel looks sick.
"A high school student?" I ask. Rapist wasn't built like high school student.
"He was held back twice," Molly whispers "He was twenty,"
"Molly, I'm going to need to ask you some questions, and I know they're hard to answer, but they'll tell us whether you should go to a hospital or not. Okay?" Molly nods "Did he... penetrate you with anything other than himself?"
Molly shakes her head.
"Do you have any other injuries besides the cut?"
She pauses, then pulls aside her blouse again, this time a bit lower, just under the collarbone, exposing a few fresh bruises and one bite mark. This adds to the bruise forming around her left eye. I am sickened.
"Are you in serious pain anywhere else?"
"My... my legs. Down there," her cheeks flush and she avoids Daniel's gaze.
"Molly, have you... ever slept with a man before?"
Don't know why he asks this. Girl is good looking, am positive the answer is yes. Molly surprises me again and shakes her head. Maybe a lesbian. Would assume, but Dreiberg is more skeptical.
"Any other sexual encounters?"
She shakes her head again. I have never come across an innocent victim before, someone who has done absolutely nothing to deserve the treatment they receive. Anyone else has had some sort of sickening vice: Whores, Liars, Adulterers. Can usually tell by their reaction to me. They fear me. Molly is not afraid of me. She is the innocent victim. This intrigues me.
"Alright... Listen, Molly, I'd recommend going to a hospital, at the very least a private doctor. I can fix up your injuries, but there's no way of telling if anything else is wrong,"
Molly nods and runs a few fingers under her eye to wipe away the tears, forgetting that it's blackened, and winces slightly. Dreiberg stands and leaves the room. Molly glances up at me, then moves her gaze back down to the floor. Why will she look me in the eye and not Dreiberg?
"Thank you," she nearly whispers. This is another rare occurrence. I have never been thanked before. Molly looks more distressed now.
"Something you're not telling us?" I ask. She looks me in the face again, this time holds my gaze.
"I just realized... They're going to find the body. And my fingerprints and-"
"I left my signature," I tell her "And if you're questioned, just tell the truth,"
"I-I can't blame a murder on you,"
"Why? I did it," I say simply. Molly simply looks down. Have not yet figured out the way this girl thinks. Dreiberg comes back, tends to injuries. I watch. When finished, Joey is still outside. I get in the cab with Molly and she mumbles an address to Joey. He takes us to a small apartment, we both get out.
"Thank you. Again," she says, looking me in the eye again. She has blue eyes.
All I can do is nod. She walks inside, but gives me one last glance before entering. I walk home.
Molly has given me a lot to think about. The first and only innocent victim I've ever come across. She thanked me. She looked me directly in the eye. She is not afraid of me. What is different about Molly? What makes her this way? She has given me something else too. Some strange feeling, deep in my chest. Is this hope? Maybe. Must Investigate Further.