Watching this stupid series on Netflix. Don't recommend it to anyone. Still, I'm far into S1.
Today it's been a whole day at the police station. The person I have been talking the most with( I think he's the same guy I was on the phone with for perhaps 15 minutes a week ago when I called about their passport rules, so we're basically friends now. ), woke me up this morning:
- Hi, it's 16. 5.18 from the Police. Could you come down to the station at 10.00? The Right Doctor ( according to Google translate) is coming here from Uppsala to examine you and we would also like to ask you some additional questions.
- At 10? What time is it now?
- It's 08.40, so you should be able to make it in time. If you try to get here a bit early that would be great too, maybe if you leave home at 09.40 at least then you will here on time.
- Mrmm, ok. I'll be there.
At the station a female police officer meets me and we start smalltalking right away while we walk to the room far back in the building where they have a medical examination room, which also contains a litterbox for cats. Before we entered the room we briefly met 16. 5.18 in the hallway. First I saw his silhouette: tall, slim. She introduced us, we shook hands and I was all like ( in my mind):
- Omg, wow, is this 16.5.18 that I have been talking with?
Like, almost fainting you know. Think supermodel here people. Almost painfully attractive.
We exchanged a few words.
- Hi, it's me you have been talking to.
Suddenly I couldn't speak. I tried to look for a ring. Is he married? He must have a girlfriend or be gay. I'm way too old and ugly to have a chance at that, or? Maybe he likes old and ugly.
He came into the examination room too for a short while, when Right Doctor had arrived. We talked about my passport that was outdated and 16.5 18 actually said:
- It's ok, I know her. From the photos, of course.
He quickly added.
Then he left. Right Doctor started examining me and taking pictures while he recorded his observations:
- Light brown, greenish mark with purple line, 2.8 cm in diameter placed on the outside of right wrist. Period. Eight smaller red marks placed on left side of throat in an area about 10 cm in diameter. Period.
He had a ruler to measure the marks and ended every observation with "period".
He examined my whole body like this. When we came to the sensitive issue of the hair. and the amount of hair that had been pulled, there is apparently a big margin regarding what to classify as loss of hair.
- I don't see any centimeter big bare spots.
Like that somehow would be relevant. The idiot had grabbed as big chunks of hair he could and pulled as hard as possible ( twice) which means the amount of hair that he pulled out by the roots were placed rather evenly around the scalp. It's not like he pulled out separate strands with one centimeter in diameter. I'm really upset about the doctors lack of attention to detail here, or possibly deliberate neglect, because how would they know how much hair I had before Friday night? It would be difficult to prove in a court of law and therefore they are reluctant to make a solid statement about it.
After the examination I had to wait in the hallway for a few moments and 16.5.18 came by again:
We stood there for a while in silence. I tried to come up with something to say, but failed.
Then the female police offer came back and we went to another room for the additional questions. We went through the details of Friday night again and added information where needed. They had the idiot arrested at the station and naturally he had a completely different version of what happened:
- He said the both of you had undressed and he was naked and you in panties and tank top.
- What? No, we were both fully dressed the entire time! Why would he say that?
- I don't know.
I suppose that was his revenge, to make them tell me that and make me at least picture him naked.
There are always "explanations". Like the blood in my panties:
- Perhaps she got her period?
Nope, and that still don't explain the wounds on my labia and inner thigh, that came from the violent pinching.
When we were finished, I asked if she could help me with verifying my identity for a passport. Since she is a police officer investigating my case ( one of the eligible persons for identification if no family member is present).
- Sure, or I could ask 16.5.18?
I said nothing, but silently hoped she would of course. Allthough it ended up being her doing the indentification, which was equally entertaining because she has forgotten to pick up her new police ID and the one she had was even more outdated than my passport, so she had to use her drivers license.
Then she called later to inform that the idiot had been released, because they could no longer keep him in custody, but that the investigation is still ongoing.
- I don't think you have to be afraid that he contacts you.
- I really hope he doesn't.