"The devil wasn't born. He was made." Daria said smoothly. Her friends didn't recognize her. Her grin grew wide and her eyes narrowed. Her raven colored hair blocked half of her face. Daria needed revenge. All she needed to do was make them pay... w...
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A couple of days passed since the shooting at Daria's party. The news spread like wildfire. Everyone knew about the boy that died in the front yard of Daria Anderson's house. And to make matters worse for Daria, at school nearly everyone avoided her. But what bothered her the most was that they avoided her because of her father. Daria never told anyone the real story of what happened and most likely never will.
"So, what were you doing the night the boy died?" The detective asked calmly. Daria grinned and brought her thoughts back to reality. Daria eyed the detective as he walked around her in a circle like a predator surrounding their prey.
"It was a party. What do you think I was doing?." She snapped. Daria raised her eyebrows and gently smiled as the detective sat down and stared at Daria intently. The light in the room was low and the windows around her were not see-through. She could only see her reflection; the door looked impenetrable and the detective himself looked uptight.
"I'm going to ask you again. What were you doing the night the boy died and WHY was there a gun in your house?" His voice this time was more serious than before. Daria simply sat there and didn't say a word. Why would she? How is she going to tell a detective that she was making out with her ex's best friend? Daria also couldn't tell about the "gifts" she has been receiving.
"Fine," he said. Daria glared as he motioned his fingers as if telling someone to come in and someone did. A woman, tall, her hair was in a tight bun and her heels made click-clack noises that echoed around the room. Her thin handheld a semi-thin file with a coffee in the other hand. She handed it to the detective and left.
"Tsk tsk tsk" the detective made a noise with his tongue as if he was disappointed. Daria saw him open the file and went through the papers. "Daria Anderson.." he said slowly. Daria knew exactly what was in that folder, and him making it seem interesting was just pathetic to her.
"What makes you think there was a gun in my house? It was a party, anyone could've come in with the gun in their pocket." Daria asked. The detective looked up and looked back down, Daria huffed and the detective finally spoke.
"Daria Anderson, age 17, originally from Florida, and oh look at this...arrested for drug use and possession-"
"That shouldn't be in there!" she clenched her hand and slammed it on the metal table. How could this be? After she...
"Now you want to talk?" he asked impatiently. Daria put on a fake smile and stood up.
" I was drunk" Daria shrugged. He closed the file and folded his hands. Daria leaned forward, her hand clenched the top of the chair to keep her balance.
"Are you sure?" he asked. Daria rolled her eyes and sighed. All she could think about was how the hell she was going to explain this. "Daria... I heard about you... Your dad-"
"Enough about my dad. I was drunk. The question about the gun, NO I don't have a gun in my house. Second, I'm a minor so you can't ask me questions without parental con-"
