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murderer? |
| Written by rachael | |
| Saturday, 19 April 2008 | |
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Share it:       She stood there, her body in shock. Her clothes were covered in blood. The murder weapon in her hand; a butchers knife. She fell to her knees crying. Police kicked down the door and stormed in. Five men in blue circled around her. She was cuffed and led out of the house. She was eased into the car and taken away from the murder scene. Interrogation. What is interrogation? But annoyance. No matter how much you tell the truth they’ll never believe you. “I told you! I didn’t do it.” The young woman yelled. “It wasn’t me.” “Then why are you covered in her blood? Why were you holding the murder weapon?” The interrogator retaliated. “You even had a motive. You hated your mother! You wanted to kill her.” “Yes that is true, nut I wouldn’t do it. Even if there is so much hate for her that dwells in me…there’s still love for her. She was my mother and she always will be. That love may be a weak, fainted glow that dwindles at the bottom of my heart; its what keeps me from killing her.” “You wanted her out of your life! You wanted her gone!” An officer yelled. “I did not kill her! I found her there like that. I tried to save her…but it was too late…” The young woman looked at the man that sat across from her. Tears streamed down her face. The officer stared back at her, his eyes icy cold. The other stood in a dark corner, his face shaded. “She did it herself. She told me that she was going to do it…but I didn’t think that she would. Dad left her for another woman. He said that she was getting to old and fat. That made her moody. I would cop a belting for just leaving a door open. I would be called all names for accidentally putting too much coffee in her coffee. But it wasn’t her fault, she was miserable.” “Your saying that she committed suicide. There was multiple knife wounds to her chest. All my years in the force…I have never heard of suicide victims stabbing themselves in the chest. They usually go for the wrists!” “I don’t understand that either…” The young woman mutters. “I think she was murdered.” “Yes she was…you killed her.” The officer in the shadows steps out. He leans over the young woman and whispers in her ear. “You killed her for her. You helped her escape. Didn’t you Rachael? And in a way you helped yourself. You were constantly physically and verbally abused. You couldn’t take it any more. That’s when you grabbed the knife and stabbed her five times in the chest.” “No I couldn’t…I didn’t.” Rachael whispers back. “I found her like that…I tried to help her.” Rachael was led out of the room, he hands cuffed behind her back. She was in deep self-denial. She had killed her mother whether she believes it or not. You know how many times I tell this story I still cant believe I got away with murder. I do feel sorry for Rachael though. Poor thing has to live the rest of her life in an asylum. But I did get a good amount of money out of it. I’m sorry dear Rachael but a fathers gotta do what a fathers gotta do. Copyright 2008 rachael |
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