Darkest Shade of Death

Prologue

The black and white fur rug was stained with visible streaks and drops of blood but it eerily blended into the rug like it was part of the design, like it belonged there. I looked down at my hands that were soaked in blood.

"Can I go wash my hands?" My voice comes out hoarse and void of any emotion. I meet the gaze of the policeman who is sitting right opposite me and staring at me, he's been staring at me like that for some minutes now not asking any questions. I don't know what he was waiting for me to say and I was tired of sitting at a place, I was getting uncomfortable.

"You can go when we're done". I tear my eyes away from his and look out the window as the ambulance disappears from sight, the siren fading. My vision begins to blur but I blink it away.

Tap

Tap

Tap

I look down at where the noise is coming from, the officers' left leg. He's tapping his leg slowly on the rug, the rug underneath his feet creating a soft rhythm with his shoe, making me want to rip his leg out from his body because I crave silence and hearing the relaxing sound is ironically making me a little antsy but that would be a little violent and would grace him with part of the reaction he's hoping for.

"Is there anything you want to say Andrea?" He keeps his eyes on me like he's looking to read my reaction as he talks but I just stare at him blankly, ignoring his scrutiny.

"No".

"I heard you're supposed to leave for college in a week". I shrug and shift my gaze back to the bloody rug.

"Tell me what happened". He prods, this is the third time he's asking me to tell him what had happened and it is annoying. I know what he wants though, for me to slip up and say something different than what I said the first two times.

"I already told you". I shift a bit in my chair to adjust my position and feel a stab of pain at my side; it was probably a small gash from the knife. He nods and glances round the room.

"Are you sure there's nothing else you want to say or add...that you might have forgotten". He repeats and keeps on staring, waiting for any slight indication that I'm lying.

"You've already asked me that". I figured he had a bad habit of repeating himself but seriously, what did he want me to say, that I'm the one who did it, that I killed someone and made the call to 911 to drive the suspicion away from me? I could see that it was somewhat suspicious that I was the only one at the crime scene and I was covered in blood, the blood of the victim but that didn't prove anything.

He stands and drops a card on the coffee table that rests between us.

"Call me if you remember anything or you just need to talk, you're father's on his way". I nod and he leaves. I pick up the card to see the police department's number and his personal number, getting up I toss it in the bin.

There's no way I was ever going to call anyone from the police or even slightly connected to the police, he probably just gave it to me so I would know where to call if I ever felt guilty enough to confess not because he cared about my safety or because he would listen to whatever I had to say. They wanted me to confess, to take the fall for a crime I didn't commit, a murder. They wanted someone to pin the crime on so the case would be closed quickly, but I wasn't the killer.

I wasn't a murderer

Yet.