Alexis POV
My favorite color of orange has now become my least favorite color. The orange coloring of the baggy jail jumpsuit I was wearing was beginning to have bile crawl up the back of my throat. It hung loosely from my body making me feel like I was carrying a open parachute on my back.
The humidity in the room had my pores dripping with sweat causing a scrunch in my nose from the unpleasant smell. My face felt stiff and cracky from the dried up tears stains and my lips were chapped.
A ache settled in my stomach from the hunger I had from refusing to eat the "food" they served here. I looked over at the rigged blue tray that was piled with corn and mash potatoes. A small fruit cup sat next to them. The rumbling in my stomach had me eyeing the fruit cup wearily, debating whether or not I should eat it.
Giving in, I picked myself up from the small bed and went to the tray picking up the fruit cup. I went back to the bed and peeled the film eating the fruit in the cup. The ache and the rumbling in my stomach seem to go away.
When I was finished I let the empty cup sit on the bed as I stared blankly at the walls. I tried to keep my mind blank but my thoughts always seemed to get the best of me.
The jail phone that was perched on the wall was basically taunting me telling me to call my parents. But I knew calling my parents would be a huge mistake. I knew if they found out that I was being convicted for accessory to murder they would shun me. I probably also receive a long ass speech saying 'how Chicago was no city for a little girl like me with big hopes and dreams'.
When I graduated high school my parents decided to move out of Chicago, and wanted me to go with them. I turned the offer down explaining to them that staying in Chicago was more in price range. They tried to tell me they were going to pay all my finances, but me being the independent girl I am, I wanted to do everything for myself.
Just thinking about my parents caused a lump in my throat and my eyes to spill with tears. I cried silently to myself as I sat curled up in a ball in my bed.
A hour has passed before I heard the sound of the metal door to my cell opening. I lifted my head to see a police officer with another man dressed in a suit. The man gaze was fixed on me as he stepped inside the small cell. He was tall with sandy blonde hair and a thick beard.
"Good evening Mrs. Wright, I'm Chief Curry. I would like you to come with me." He said nonchalantly to me, before leaving out the cell. I dragged myself off the bed and followed after him. The police officer who had unlocked the door kept a watchful gaze on me as if I was going to lunge at him. Although, I would had loved to do that I didn't have enough energy.
Leaving out the cell I followed after the chief through the dingy hallways. We didn't mutter a word to each other, everything was silent except the sound of my jailhouse slippers hitting the floors.
Chief Curry stopped in front of an door causing me to come to halt also. He turned around and faced me with an unreadable expression, "I will like to ask you some question, may you please step inside." He opened the door for me and gesture with his hand for me to step inside. Without a saying a word I step inside and peered around the room. I notice that the room was similar to the questioning room I had been in a couple days ago.
In the middle of the room sat a long brown table with a small recorder on it. Two seats were perched on opposite sides of the table. Not needing to be told I took the seat towards the back. I watched as the chief took the other seat.
"How are feeling Mrs. Wright?" He asked politely.
How was I feeling? I've been trapped in a fucking 4 by 4 cell with concrete floors and roaches running everywhere.
I sleep on bed that I'm pretty sure was made out of stone, and used a toxic toilet.
Yeah, I'm just peachy.
I gave him a blank look and choose to ignore his question. When he notice I wasn't going to answer his question he sighed.
"I know you've been questioned by a lot of detectives lately but I personally wanted to talk to you. The thing is, I don't think your guilty at all," I raised an eyebrow and decided to listen to what he had to say, "You're only 20 years old, a junior in college with a whole future ahead of you. Why would you want to mess that up by assisting a murder with stranger? You and I both know you or Durk didn't have anything to do with this murder, you're just trying to cover somebody because you don't want to be labelled as a snitch. Durk head is so far up in this 'streets' mess he's not going to say word but you on the other hand I know you're smarter than that." I silently watched him as I felt my hands began to sweat from me balling them up in a fist.
"So why don't you just cut this unnecessary bs, and tell me what really happened. If you don't, you'll probably sit in this cell for a months before your trial starts, and if you are found guilty, which you most likely will be, you'll serve over 10 years in prison and forever be felon. Once you become a felon, your chance at obtain at a job will be at a zero. So you'll then be force to live on the state and barely get by in life. " The whole time he spoke he never broke eye contact, he kept his face clear of any emotions and posture straight.
His words seem to cut deep and hit a nerve in my body. My head begin to spin as thoughts rushed throughout my brain. Tears ran down my cheek and my body started to shake. It seem as if all the pain I held bottled in finally started to come out. The tough guy persona I try to keep up failed.
In that moment I just cracked.
*
The handcuffs that occupied my wrist and ankles were removed from my possession. The orange jumpsuit I wore was taken away from me as I got dressed in my own clothes.
Before I left the cell I took a glimpse at my reflection in the small cracked mirror that hung on the wall. The streaks of dry tears was evident on my face, and was expression was so dead. I pulled away from the mirror and exited the cell with the prison guard following pursuit.
We walked a long hallway until we reached the front desk, "Ms. Wright please sign here, and here." The white lady at the front desk ordered to me. I did as I was told and signed the papers with a shaky hand.
The sound of heavy footsteps and clattering of chains caught my attention, I looked up to have the beating of my heart stop. The man who I almost served prison time for came walking in my direction. It took mere seconds before he made eye contact with me. I stilled and gulped.
He lips formed in a sly smirk before he mouthed the words, "You're dead."
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SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT !!!!! THANKS YOU TO EVERYBODY WHOS STILL READING THIS BOOK AFTER I TOOKS MONTHS TO UPDATE, I FEEL SO HORRIBLE :(.
Thanks for all the love & support I love you guys 😘
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- Mariah ☺️
