"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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Daria's legs could sense the chill of the metal chair through her light washed jeans. The room was still. The metal cuffs bound her wrists together.
"You realize you cannot leave me in here!" Daria made a slight scoff, and the detective stepped in. His hands slammed on the table. But Daria didn't cower. Instead, she smirked and glanced up.
"Where's the gun?"
"I do not know what you are talking about."
"I know all about your little adventures in Florida,"
Daria chuckled out of fear. Showing it would give the detective an advantage. His suit may make him seem authoritative and his job, but Daria wasn't fooled. Anybody has a weakness.
"Isn't illegal to have a background check on a minor?" Daria delayed his questions. It bothered him. But it was entertaining for her.
"Are you going to keep asking, or are you going to let me go?"
The detective brought out a file and spread out four pictures in front of her. Each with her face perfectly visible except for the blonde right beside.
"Is this you?" he asked.
Daria inhaled deeply and nodded.
"What about this one?" He pointed out. Daria looked down. Her clothes were bloody, and both of her hands gripped Emma's shoulders. Except Emma's face was still hidden.
"What about it?" Daria asked.
"Why are your clothes covered in blood?" he asked.
"What makes you think it's blood? I could be cranberry juice, pomegranate juice or even wine." suggested Daria. The detective became inpatient. He stared at her with annoyance. She waited for what seemed a while until he spoke again. " Doesn't explain why you had to burn your clothes."
Daria leaned forward across the metal table. The cuffs scratched the surface and made small screeching sounds. "I already told you. I did nothing," she emphasized.
"Then why is there a gun in your house?"
"I don't have a gun in my house." She lied.
The detective grab a black bag that was right beside him and placed it on the table.
"Who's the blonde?" He finally asked. Daria avoided eye contact and remained silent.
"Who's the blonde?" he pushed. Daria sighed and said, "I do not know. I was drunk. I spilled wine, went to the woods and changed. Burning my clothes was an accident."
The detective gave an exhausted sigh. "I'm going to let you change"
Daria looked at him, confused. "What?"
"You're lying. I have the gun. It has your fingerprints. You can't deny it. I tried to give you a chance to tell the truth, but you didn't. So change. We'll take you to your cell when you 're done."
