Unforgivable

Chapter Eleven

Stacey

I have been at the police-station for roughly 25 minutes now. I had more or less been arrested and was informed of the regulations, which meant I was now in police custody. I was so edgy and petrified about what could happen, and the consequences. I didn't want to be here, but I guess I had no actual choice. I remained seated in the tiny box-room which only consisted of a sturdy wooden table, a glass window on my left hand side, a dusty light that hung loosely above us, and 3 plastic chairs. Sat opposite me were the same two police-men who had come to my door to give me the bad news. The room was miniature and cold, which chilled my blood and bones. My clothes stuck to me as my sweat seeped out of my pores in panic. I knew I was guilty already, but I didn't want to go down for mere self-defence. PC Smith sat opposite me; he was a small Caucasian man with short ruffled hair and many bags under his eyes which showed just how much hours of sleep he actually got each night. He watched me with hooded eyes and a sharp expression as he continued to question me. Sat next to him was PC Johnson, who was also Caucasian, quite tall and slender, with a thick moustache and a slim face which was drained from all happiness and joy. I sat there feeling intimidated and not knowing what to do. My mind was going insane right now, I watched the tape recorder as it continued to run, taking in everything I had to say, and the questions I was receiving. PC Johnson cleared his throat and kept his pen firmly in hand as he carried on taking down notes. I took a deep breath and tried my best to relax.

Calm down Stace - just focus and answer these questions correctly. Focus.

"What was the relationship like between you and Mr Johnson?" PC Smith asked referring to David. He kept strong eye-contact as he waited for my answer. My fingers tumbled over each other nervously as I continued to twirl my thumbs. My leg began to shake on its own accord as I gritted my teeth anxiously.

"Erm... it started off good, I had gotten used to the idea of David as a second dad. Then he developed a drinking problem and things began to get worse." I answered clearly.

"Explain what you mean by that." He urged. I sighed.

"His whole attitude changed completely. He stayed out until early hours in the morning and whenever he returned an argument between him and my mum would occur." PC Johnson began to write down notes. I looked around the room nervously and fiddled with my fingers. Bloody 'ell I just wanted to get out of here.

"Do you know what these arguments were about?" I shook my head.

"No." PC Johnson scribbled down notes quickly.

"Was Mr Johnson ever abusive towards you?" 

"Yes." He rested his elbows forward on the table before looking me in the eye. I could tell by his expression he wanted to catch me out. He wanted me to go down, but my only option was up. I can't go to jail, I do not belong there.

"You seem like a good honest girl," he said still scrutinizing me. I swallowed the large lump in my throat that was resisting to go down, before nodding briefly. He then folded one leg over the other and rested back in the chair, now in a relaxed manner.

"Miss Coleman, you do realise the circumstances and purpose of this interview, do you not?" I nodded once again.

"Yes."

"The knife lodged deep within Mr Johnson's chest had your finger-prints on it, you do realise this?" I swallowed hard and nodded, "please answer verbally for the purpose of the tape."

"Yes." I said shakily. PC Johnson started on a new page and continued taking down notes.

"So you are therefore responsible for the death of David Johnson." I began to quiver and shake. This was all going wrong, I wasn't going to allow this dead bastard to cause my downfall - no way in hell.

"It was self-defence." I muttered. His eyebrow arched.

"Is that so?" He questioned unconvinced.

"You may not believe me, but I would never harm someone for no reason. I'm not like that, I'm against murder. But with David I didn't have a choice. I didn't mean for him to die, I just wanted him injured, so I could escape." He turned to PC Johnson who had ceased writing and was now watching me intently instead. They gave each other eye-contact and began communicating just with their eyes. PC Smith then turned back to me and sighed.

"Can you explain the events that took place then?" He asked quietly. I scoped the room to stall my answer. This was the question I was dreading the most. I had no actual idea how I would answer this without making me seem that I intentionally killed him - when that wasn't it at all. I was on ice already, and saying the wrong thing would definitely get me put in the slammer. I never meant to kill David. I intended to hurt him and injure him a little to keep him of great distance from me, but not kill him. I'm not a killer and I never will be. The thought of murder made my stomach churn, so why would I cause death upon David willingly? No matter how much I hated a person, I could never go through such far lengths to have them stay away from me. It all happened in a flash; one minute he had me where he wanted me, pinned against the wall with his hands firmly wrapped around my neck, and the next minute I had the knife lodged deep within his chest - the blood emitting slowly from his body as he sunk to the floor. I could still picture his facial expression; the life gradually draining from his hideous face, and his pupils becoming smaller with each struggled breath. I will never forget the strong eye-contact he managed to hold as he took his last wheezed gasp, before collapsing to the ground. The whole scene replayed in my mind, and this wasn't the first time.

"Miss Coleman." I was taken back to reality and found myself brushing the strands of hair behind my ear nervously.

"I had just finished having a friend over. They left after a couple of hours and I went into the kitchen to get a drink," I gulped, "then he came in, watching me. I felt uncomfortable so I got up to leave, but he stopped me. I kept trying to exit the room but... he said I was disrespecting him and..." I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

"Take your time," PC Smith said gently. I breathed deeply for a couple of seconds. Saying this all aloud was hard for me, as I had to relive the moment once again.

"He pushed me against the wall and started shouting in my face, telling me to say sorry for disrespecting him. But I didn't. He became angrier and slapped me hard across the cheek... I told him to release me, but he didn't. I swore at him, and that made him even angrier. He gripped onto my neck and began to choke me, saying he will kill me. I was losing air and was close to collapsing, and then I saw the sharp kitchen knife on the table beside me. He was still shouting at me, I quickly grabbed the knife and I... I stabbed him." I peered down to the floor.

"Self-defence," PC Smith muttered with a nod as if he had come to the realisation, "I think this is enough evidence we need," he turned to PC Johnson who nodded in agreement. PC Smith pressed the button on the recorder and it made a clicking noise before it stopped rolling. I sighed deeply and scratched my head nervously. "Part of the procedure is to give you a lie detector test, but I can see the pain in your eyes Miss Coleman." I fiddled with my fingers.

"Will I have to go to court?"

"Possibly. But don't worry we will sort you out."

"Course we will. She's not guilty at all." PC Johnson intervened. It was the first time he had spoken since I entered the room. His deep voice didn't suit his slender physique. I nodded sheepishly and PC Smith rose up from the chair, with his hands still rested on the wooden table.

"We'll see to it that nothing happens to you. However we can offer you some counselling sessions." I slowly shook my head. 

"No thank you." He bit the inside of his gum and began searching through some papers.

"Looks like you can leave. We will contact you later on in the week." He said after a while. I was escorted out of the room then led down the long beak hallway. Once I entered the waiting room my mums head shot up and she sighed in relief.

"Is everything okay?" She asked. I nodded and we were told to leave. We departed from the station and quickly caught the bus home. On the way there I explained to my mum what they said and the questions I was asked, but not all of them. I had a feeling sooner or later she would find out the cause of David's death one day. I was just lucky that today wasn't that day. I'd rather later than sooner. We arrived home and as usual mum headed straight upstairs. I heard her door shut gently and the TV turn on. I relaxed in the living-room in silence and stared ahead at the wall. For once my mind was quite blank, I actually had nothing to think about, which is bonkers because of the past events that?s taken place. Maybe it still hadn't sunk in yet. It's gonna take a while to get used to the house being silent and desolated. It's also gonna take a while for my mum to cheer up and move on. Although with another baby on the way she will be thrilled once he or she is born. That's another thing; mum can't be too stressed, that'll affect the baby, which was the last thing any of us would want. I retrieved my phone from the coffee table and decided to call Rochelle, who answered after a few rings.

Chelle: "Stace?"

Me: "Hey Chelle."

Chelle: "What's up, you okay?"

Me: "Yeah... well no. Just got back from the police station." She gasped.

Chelle: "Oh no. Did you tell them?"

Me: "I had no choice, they found my fingerprints anyway."

Chelle: "So now your mum knows?"

Me: "No. But I know one day she'll eventually find out. I don't want to be the one to tell her. She'd never forgive me." She sighed.

Chelle: "It wasn't intentional Stace. It's not like you're a brutal murderer."

Me: "You don't know my mum. She has always been on David's side, and always will be." She was quiet for a moment. I fiddled with my loose strands of hair and exhaled deeply.

Chelle: "Well what happens now?"

Me: "I'm not sure. They know it was an accident, and said nothing will happen to me."

Chelle: "You're very lucky Stace." I nodded as if she could see me.

Me: "I know right." We spoke for a few more minutes then I hung up. I felt literally drained, like my whole body was gradually shutting down on me. I went upstairs to my room after feeding Buster, drew my curtains and then changed into something more comfortable. I decided to lie down and fell asleep shortly after.


It was roughly 2pm when I woke up, and since then I've been lying around aimlessly, drawing different pictures and finishing off my coursework. I had no motive and I was as bored as ever. I'd rather stay bored than go outside and face the public. I kept checking the newspapers to see if David was in there. I wondered if the media would twist the story around or make it seem as if he committed suicide. I'd prefer that, I'd be off scott free. I turned to my clock to see it was now 4:32pm. I was supposed to be at work right now even though it was my day off. I was hoping to do some over-time, but I couldn't be arsed. Usually I would call in and let Mr Herman know that I wouldn't be able to make it, but I didn't see the point right now. I bet he wouldn't even question me if I decided to go in tomorrow. Rebecca is probably cussing me right now, since she's my back-up stacker.

Sorry Becc's.

I shaded in my mums cheek and used a different coloured pastel to ensure the lighting was correct. I decided to draw my mum in a dull secluded room with only one light blazing onto her. It was exactly how I felt right now, and I always drew my feelings. The room represented how closed in she felt, and the loneliness she was enduring. I was the light; providing her guidance so she could see clearly, without having any trouble. Unfortunately this was the case right now, I was my mother?s last flicker of hope, without me she would be left in darkness - with no-where else to go. I sighed and thickened her eye-lashes. When I had finished I couldn't help but admire it . This one deserved to be framed. I smiled weakly to myself and went to show my mum.