I was unfazed by the chill in the evening air; my skin was hot, my face flushed with fear.
My eyes darted across the street and
back, searching for a familiar face; they were all strangers.
“I didn't do it.” I whispered it, no one noticed.
I shook my head in disbelief. They were
all staring at me. A sea of blue uniforms and red flashing lights. My
head was spinning.
“Mrs. Anderson, I advise you not to say anything else.” Some lady I didn't know shouted out from the blur of faces. She would be my attorney. I had no idea how I'd find her, but she already believed in me.
“I didn't do it.” I repeated it louder this time.
Tears were flowing freely down my cheeks and my shoulders began to shake uncontrollably.
I glanced sideways at the body. His
body. They thought I killed him. What did they know?
With my hands behind my back and metal clamped around my wrists, turmoil swept through the crowd.
It was shocking and strange and frightening; Death sprawled out in their street. Their once quiet suburbia subjected to a new horror.
A female officer guided me towards a patrol car, “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law....” her voice became muffled and I shut out the rest.
I couldn't hear anything but the roar
of screams inside my head. He was dead.
“I didn't do it.” I repeated it over and over.
rehearsing. And celebrating.
He was dead.
©2020 Lola Autry
Picture Credit: 123rf