My Heart in Handcuffs

Chapter 2

When that word reached my ears, my world turned 360 degrees. And I don't just mean in essence, I mean it literally too. Suddenly, the walls all turned around me.

And for the first time in my life, I fainted.

 ****

Next time I open my eyes, I see a white ceiling. I started blinking furiously to adjust my eyes to the late afternoon sun that was streaming in through a window on the side of the room in a beautiful golden aura. The first thought that occurred to me when I saw that window was escape. It was glass. I could see from here that it was going to be easier than punching a cheerleader. I didn't even turn to see the rest of the white room I was in. Which is why when I started moving my legs to walk, I didn't expect the hand that fell flat to my chest holding me down (or more like my breast), or the deep voice that came from my left, “Don’t even try.” The hand remained on my breast.

I looked at the hand slowly, making sure the person saw me do that pointedly, then, even slower, my eyes traced the hand up the arm, all the way to the tanned face and the hazel eyes.

I glared at the senior policeman, the same one who had dropped that ‘minor’ piece of info. Suddenly, it all came rushing back. I had fainted. And according to the police, I was the one who killed my own mother.

I was so screwed. I mean, I was accused of many things before, this wasn’t even my first time to be arrested, but I had always been accused of petty (or not so petty) theft, trespassing, illegal drugs for a while, although I had stopped that a while back, and frequently public violence. But never, never was MURDER on my list of crimes.

Mom. I felt sick to the stomach. I would worry about her when she used to prick herself on a rose in a vase, I would never be able to so much as harm her, let alone murder her.

“I expected this.” he said with a solemn face, interrupting my thoughts. In case I didn't mention, his hand was still on my boobs.  He drew his hand back quickly as if reading my thoughts, crossed his hands in front of his chest and relaxed in his chair.

“Is she really gone?” I whispered the question.

“Are you regretting it already? Too bad you can’t go back and change your mind about murdering your own mom.” If they thought I had murdered her, then she must be gone. But If I hadn't killed her, then who had?

“You’ll do yourself a huge favour if you just confess the whole deal and admit the whole thing. Your sentence might be reduced. You are a minor after all.”

I couldn’t help but look very smug. I wasn’t a minor, but I wasn’t about to tell him, and apparently my records didn't reveal so much to him. That’s how good Luke, my computer whiz friend, was.

Plus, I was glad I still passed for less than eighteen.

“Why on earth are you smirking?” oops. He noticed.

“I am?”I erased my facial expression to look cold again.

“So…?”he raised her eyebrows pointedly as if waiting for some answer.

“So…” I just repeated it. I didn't know what he was asking about.

“Are you just going to confess and save yourself a lot of trouble?”

“More like ‘am I going to confess and save you a lot of trouble.’” I sneered.

I saw a muscle twitch in his jaw, but the last thing I would feel towards this guy would be fear.

“Who are you anyway to investigate a murder? You’re not from the local police. You don't have the authority to question me.”

He arched his left eyebrow, “Really, well then, maybe this will change your mind.” He slipped his hand into his black jacket, and I closed my eyes, bracing myself for a bullet from his gun.