Questioning
1995
Marshalls POV
The police officers drove Angelo and I to the sub station in separate cars...we saw them haul Bugz into the back of the ambulances car.
I felt on edge about everything. What the fuck we'd get charged with... Cause the cops seein' just Angelo and I there don't look too good... I mean I ain't rlly do shit wrong other than fist fightin'. I didn't partake in the pistol shit.
Im prayin and hopin that Bugz has a firearm license and he ain't just have that shit illegally like a dumbass. Cause if that's the case than after he gets out the hospital, his ass is goin' straight to jail, yo.
He ain't shoot nobody but he pistol whipped the fuck outta that dude wit the tat a couple times.
...They took me and Angelo into separate rooms for questioning. A white women with dark hair who looked around her late 40s came inside of the room with a clip board in her hand. Black reading glasses sat low on her nose.
She sat down on the other side of the table as I was still cuffed, sitting in the uncomfortable chair.
I was nervous as shit but I knew to keep myself calm. I was pissed off too—Worried and tired as a bitch...I can't believe shit escalated so fuckin' quickly—And it may or may not have been my fault, yo.
Cause I mean...ion know—I was actin' immature as fuck. I could have just tried and looked over the fact the Angelo and I had to stay in the same apartment for a while instead of eggin' him on to hit me.
Talm bout 'If you wanna hit me, do it.'... I'm a fuckin' idiot, yo.
I was just pissed off.... I've been tryna be as patient as possible about everything...With Adina I mean. It's been pretty much a couple weeks since the whole Kim thing. And I don't mind giving her space or some time to think, okay? I understand why she's mad—Shit I probably would have cussed the girl out and beat who ever the fuck she kissed to a god damn pulp the minute I see her kissin' a mothafucka.
I can't imagine how she feels, dawg.
When the hell will I grow up?
"Full name, date of birth, and occupation." The female investigator adjusted in her seat.
"...Marshall Mathers, October 17th, 1972. I work at stampin' factory." My voice rasped as I spoke slowly from how tired I was and how ready I was for this shit be over already.
"Located where?" She asked as she noted shit down on her clipboard.
I sighed. "On Woodland Avenue."
The lady nodded in response.
After a brief pause of writing info down, the investigator took a measured breath. "Could you please provide the names of the individuals implicated in the incident?"
I took a deep breath as my eyes squinted, licking my lips, my wrists still aching from the cuffs. "Uh, me—Marshall Mathers....De'Angelo Bailey, Karnail Pitts, and..."
I wanted so badly to say them other two mothafuckas that ran away...But you know how shit be... If I rat them out...somebody gon' end up lookin' for me.
But I want justice for my homebody. The mothafucka shot him, dawg!.. this shit is a tough ass situation, yo...
If I don't rat them out—Angelo and I may or may not have a higher chance of goin' to jail... and Bugz won't get no justice.
But Bugz is my homebody, aight?....Its scary makin' this decision cause ion know if Angelo is gon' tell the other investigator about the two dudes...
From what those guys told me—Angelo and them is good friends...so I feel like he wouldn't rat them out...
