Lies

Why the hell did I get her involved… Hannah can’t do this. She’ll stumble over her words and won’t get anything right… as usual. She’ll let us all down. After everything, that whore will let us down. I knew I shouldn’t have let her get involved. Mike knew… and Carrie knew. God! It’s not as if it’s something you gotta do at least once in your life! She must be a psychotic sick bitch to wanna even be there! Well… if she’s asking for it, I’ll blame it on her. I’ll blame it all on her…
"Elizabeth Rodgers, you have been taken into custody for the suspicion of kidnap and murder, do you understand?"
God these pompous f*ckwits in black suits never give up do they? I nod.
"For the record of the tape, Rodgers is nodding her head. Now, tell us exactly what happened."
Damn

"We didn’t do anything! Swear to God! Look at me! Do I look like a goddam killer? Do I look like a fucking psychotic sick bitch to you or something? I’m a student for Christ’s sake! I’m a goddam cheerleader! Why would I wanna kill someone? Why? God… You… M-my dad is a lawyer and he is gonna be pissed at you guys. You’re gonna loose your good for nothing worthless jobs, you meddling bastards!"
Oh dear God, I’m babbling.
"Hannah…" The detective on the right says while obviously staring straight down my top! "… let’s cut the crap. You’re fingerprints are all over the murder weapon."
I gawp. Dear God I’m gawping. Say something goddammit!
"They can’t be!"
"We have proof Hannah."
The son of a bitch has proof…? God I’m fucked.
"There’s been an obvious mistake here detective. I have alibi’s you know!"
He smirks at me.
"Yeah and we have proof."
He throws a thick sheet of paper on the desk in front of my face. Surrounding two sets of matching fingerprints, there is a load of police language I don’t understand. Bullshit, in my opinion. I look up at the detective.
"Explain that." He says.
Okay, remember the story. Stick to the goddam STORY!
"My dad is so gonna fire your ass!"

"Will you quit shining that light in my face? What is this CSI New York or something?"
I laugh. Maybe I should stop trying to get on the good side of these guys. They look pretty tough.
"So let’s go over it again," the detective on my right says, "You met your girlfriend, Elizabeth Rodgers at six in the evening last night. You drove to her friend, Hannah Smithson’s house and picked her up from there, then you went straight to Carrie Daniels house where…"
I interrupt.
"Where we had pizza, watched a movie, and plotted a f*cking murder. That’s what you wanna hear right? That four eighteen year old kids were plotting for murder? You sick shits…"
The look on their faces is priceless… Although the looks quickly fade. These guys have heard it all before.
"You then all left Carrie Daniels house at eleven-thirty and went for drinks at the local bar, Blue Oyster, then you still chose to drive Elizabeth and her friends home even though you spent almost two hours drinking. This happened at around one-fifthteen and then you drove yourself home and you all had a fun fun night, is that what you’re telling me?"
Jesus…
"That’s what I’m telling you sir…"

"We didn’t mean to kill him, I swear!"
NO! I shouldn’t be saying this. God… I’ve landed us all in the shit and there’s me thinking Hannah would spill… Tears course down my face and I can’t help but tell these guys about the sick and twisted thing we did to that scumbag! Jesus, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m fucked. We all are. I scream frantically at the detectives looking at me like I’m a piece of garbage…
"It was just a joke! You know what he did! It was only supposed to be funny… to scare him… God, I’m so sorry…"
I break down in tears and I can’t go on. Finally, after what seems hours, the detective speaks.
"Carrie Daniels, you will be taken to a high security prison where you will stay until you are summoned to trial. If you are found guilty, there will be a possible life sentence, you understand me, little girl?"
Little girl… Goddammit. Through tears I nod.

"… so we went to the Blue Oyster and Mike drove us all home at around one-thirty. That’s the truth…"
There I’m done telling stories. One of the detectives opens his mouth to speak.
"Well, Miss Rodgers, that’s…"
Shit. Two armed detectives have just burst through the door. Now I know. Hannah fucking spilled! One of the brutes with guns speaks.
"Elizabeth Rodgers, we’ve had a full confession off one of your partners in crime. You will now be taken to a high security…"
Sh*t.

END