She's accused of a crime she didn't commit. Or did she?
|"Tell us again what happened." The police badge caught the light sending a flash into my eyes that I flinched against.
"I already told you, I don't remember anything." I pleaded with the officer sitting across from me. My hands shook almost as badly as my voice and tears slid down my face.
"I don't believe you," said the officer towering over me, Jenkins according to the badge. "We found the knife in the backseat of your car. How did it get there?"
"I don't know." My voice cracked.
Good cop sitting across from me slid a picture in front of me. I glanced down and screamed. Jenny's face. What happened to it?
"This is what you did to your best friend. Why?" Bad cop was so close to my ear that I could feel the spittle from his mouth slam into my face.
"Bitch had it coming." I heard the voice. It sounded suspiciously like my own, but I didn't say those words. I looked toward bad cop with wide eyes to see if he'd heard anything, but he was still waiting for an answer.
"I didn't." I whispered, knowing the futility of those words.
"I did." The voice shouted and I thought for certain both of the police would have heard. They couldn't seem to, however. It was just me. I turned toward the mirror. I wanted to look any place other than the picture of my nearly decapitated best friend.
It was my face that I saw in the glass, but it wasn't me. Her smile was sadistic and her eyes hard and full of hatred. She winked at me and I felt my hold weaken.
"So," I heard her say and felt her turn my head. "You wanna know why I offed the bitch?"