Insomniacs (#1)

41. sister

Police precincts were oddly stuffy. It was the thought I decided to fixate on instead of the police officer bumbling in front of me.

I didn't care about him at fucking all. And was growing extremely restless that I couldn't see Benji.

Me restless means I'm irritable. Which explains why I want to rip this dude's head off if he didn't stop talking.

I was sat in a casual room full of desks and officers, in front of a bald man with incredibly wide eyes. They seemed to take up a lot of his forehead and he shifted on his seat when he saw me staring at him. I looked away but not before I saw the imprint poking blatantly through his slacks.

He knew I was seventeen. He asked me himself. I bit back my disgust though I wasn't used to it. The same thing had happened with two of my school teachers and my dentist.

I do tend to despise men. Until I remember I'm a little infatuated with one and remind myself they're not all pricks. All asides from the guy who broke your friends jaw yesterday, I quipped to myself and a tiny smile tugged at my lips at my own crack.

The dead body might have been driving me insane.

Big-Eyed-Baldy's problem only grew when he saw my smile and I grimaced without hiding it; he thought I was smiling for him, at him or the sight of his erection.

"You're a police officer. I'm sure you know charges and all sorts for pedophilia." I slouched back in my chair, "Although, it doesn't seem like you care." I gestured down towards his dick with a cigarette between my fingers.

He flushed now, nervous and embarrassed. At least he wasn't an aggressive one, "You're- you can't smoke in here."

"I guess we both don't like following rules." I tilted my head back to blow out smoke.

Frankly, I was sick and tired of being around so many male police officers. They irked me, the air in which they carry themselves, the knowledge that some of the same men in here would have disregarded Luca's mother all those years ago.

There were only two males I wanted to see right now and neither of them were near me.

"Um- so," He cleared his throat, "Were you and the gentlemen you went into the apartment with, relatives of Sarah Markov?"

Sarah Markov. I'd learned her name a little while ago. The name to the dead body that kept flashing before my eyes. The name to Benji's mother he'd never see again.

"No."

"Friends?"

"No."

"Could you maybe elaborate why you were there?" He asked, subtly growing irritated with my blunt answers that weren't so much blunt as they were clear answers to a yes or no question- I shut my eyes and took in a breath. Restlessness, fatigue, dead bodies, irritability, it was all clawing at me.

"I know her son. I didn't know her very well." I answered.

"How do you know her son?" He asked, watching the way I twirled the cigarette smoke with my fingers, "You seem pretty unfazed for a young girl having witnessed a dead body."

"There's a plant pot that would object to that statement." I said to myself and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, sighed and waved it off, "I'm his-"

Friend? A girl that fed him chocolate and gained his acquaintance? Friend that is going to throw a riot if she doesn't see and/or know he's okay soon? Friend that would probably die for him if he asked me to? The word friend was too diminishing of mine and Benji's relationship.