"This is sad. Sad excuses, sad replies, sad sad sad." The officer laid the yellow folder in front of me. I barely looked at it, I was hardly alive at that moment. My head, pins and needles.
"So slap on the handcuffs, buddy boy. I know your hands turn into cuffs. Nice click. Assigned bootlicker at birth."
I'm so stupid.
"I can turn my hands in multiple things." The officer said smoothly, "Lucky for you, the only witness just talked you out of a death sentence or even jail time. Amazing what scum like you will try to do when it comes to it. Being a hero and stopping that other teacher? Maybe you're not a complete waste of space."
I hardly had a response. With my jaw nearly on the floor, I stared at him.
"You look shocked, is the boy's story fake?" He leaned against the plastic table, causing it to creek.
"No," I said this, but I felt as though I hadn't. Like a smarter person took me over for just a second to speak, "I just assumed you'd never believe me."
The officer placed a cigarette between his lips, clicking his tongue, causing his finger to turn into a lighter. I couldn't help but make a disgusted face at the strange skin. He breathed the cancer stick in deep before allowing the smoke to billow from his open maw.
"I wouldn't. Still don't." The officer said with a shrug, "The fact that Desmond's older brother was your husband? Maybe there's more here. I'm going to figure it out. Until then, you're free to go. But I'll be following you, Kindling."
With this, the officer stood, grabbing my files and bumping me on the way out. I was ready to throw up and have a heart attack at the same time with the way I felt. I hardly had a chance to wake up before I was carted down to the station. The morning felt like another day, entirely.
But I learned a couple of things that day. One, Desmond is definitely the Antichrist. Nothing could change that. And two, I was going to have to kill Desmond.
You're my favorite
The voice still echoed in my mind.
***
"Rider, are you okay?" I was staring at the picture on my phone of my late husband. I hardly heard Loveall who waved a hand in my face as I stepped into the apartment.
"Leave me alone," I said, trying to sound angry or mean, but instead my voice cracked, and more tears ran down my cheeks.
I'm such a waste of space.
"Wait-" He started, but I didn't give him any time to ask more questions. I barged past Loveall and made for my room, getting inside and slamming the door. I dropped onto the bed, glancing at the picture on my nightstand of me and my husband. Rapidly slamming it down before burying myself into the blankets.
Ignoring Loveall's knocking, I allowed myself to fall into an uncomfortable sleep.