memento vivere

chapter eighteen part two

"So you said her name was Sammie, correct?"

"Yes.."

"And how did you know her?"

They have me sat in one of the back rooms of the police station with a Detective across from me. The room looks like it could've been used for storage at some point. Totally not what you'd expect but I guess they had to make do since the other rooms are being used. Apparently there's been an uptick in crime in the city.

I believe it.

It's been about five minutes since they brought me back and the shakes have yet to stop. After calling the tip in, I was supposed to wait until the day they appointed me. Dad made me go upstairs to 'try' to sleep.. I slept for maybe two hours but most of the time was spent tossing and turning. All I could see was Sammie on the bus. Why do I deserve to sleep when she'll never wake up? After a while of lying there, the guilt became too much and I practically ran out the door to get here until I heard the Toyota behind me. I couldn't wait any longer.

"Ma'am?"

"Sorry. Uhm.. I didn't know her. She was already on the bus one night when I got on. Bus 42. She was with another girl.." I don't know if I should tell him about shrimp dick as well.. I don't wanna throw anyone under the bus, no pun intended, if they had nothing to do with it.. But how would I know for sure? Especially after how angry he got towards them.. No matter how trivial it seems to us, to him in his mind, he had a reason. A motive.

The Detective stops writing and looks up at me. He has a thick salt and pepper mustache, which seems to be a prerequisite to getting hired here. I'm trying my hardest not to stare at the small crumb of whatever stuck in it. At least it's keeping me from being a belligerent mess again. Despite being in a storage room, the light dangling over his face sways in the most stereotypical fashion of every crime show I've seen and I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not the one in trouble. I'm here for Sammie.. And Trixie too, since there's this awful feeling about her in my stomach.

"Bus 42, you said? That goes a pretty good ways through town. Did you see her get off? Do you know who the other girl was?"

"Uh.. She said her name was Trixie. I don't know if they were sisters or just friends but they got off together near the brewery. I think that's where they were going.."

Again he stops writing and looks at me, each time making me feel like a bug under a microscope. Like I've said something wrong.

"Okay. Did you see or hear anything else? Do you remember any other names you might've heard? Any other places?"

I need to tell him about the other girls they mentioned, Shelia and Brandy. How they hadn't seen them in a while.. And then the guy they owed money.. Harold. I remember every detail clear as day and to me,  it sounds plausible.. I know money will make people do crazy things. Maybe they didn't pay him back so he killed them.. Or maybe they really did just skip town.. But what do I know? Just like before, I don't wanna throw names out. Not just that though, if I tell them what Trixie and Sammie were up to, I'm afraid they might drop the case. They might think that they're not important enough.. Like they did with Mama. Just another whore, is what they said.

I'm sure they already know but if they have collaborative evidence, it's a different story.

But it could also lead to the case being solved.

All these conflicted feelings makes my throat squeeze shut.

"I— There was—"

"Ma'am, it's okay. I understand. We see this all the time. Just take a moment. Breathe. Do you want some coffee or water or something? Whatever you need."