TOXIC BLOODLINES 1/4

PERSON OF INTREST

KIMBERLY

Never in a million years did I think I'd ever find myself in a room like this, being interrogated by the police as a possible murder suspect. I'd hear these kinds of stories from other people who knew someone who knew a guy, etc. Despite my general confusion, sitting in this tiny dull room didn't scare me one bit. I had nothing to hide. If anything, I was pissed off. How did they even reach this conclusion? Where were they when I needed them, like, six hours ago in that parking lot?

Yeah, we can't really compare the two incidents, but still. Like Sara would say, 'Where was the energy?' I folded my arms in a huff, thinking about my unbelievable day. There's no way that this could be connected to me. If it did, what would I know besides what happened? They didn't see it, did they? Oh my god, am I getting sent away to some lab? Am I going to get taken away and studied in some underground facility? What cover story will they tell my family and friends? Would they believe I'd just leave without a trace? My life is over! I shut my eyes... Breathe in.

Five

Four

Three

Two

One, exhale.

I opened my eyes again. But I didn't feel better. The intrusive thoughts kept coming; they were so silly, but why else would I be here? I didn't do anything! I started to think back on the attack. What if when I fought back, I set something in motion? What if I'm really the cause of this? I thought about what Arik's dad said again and how he said it. I remembered his eyes and how he wanted a name, that was suspicious... right?

Even though I was here alone, I knew my uncle was nearby. I felt he was on the other side of the blacked-out window on my right. That brought me comfort, at least. I was practicing what to say in my head. Uncle Ahmed cautioned me to stick to the facts no matter how many times they tried to twist my words or force a confession. 'Remember, you are not guilty of anything.'

Knowing I was innocent should've comforted me, but it didn't. The bitter reality of my situation was that I was a brown girl. A white man and his family were brutally murdered. Whose side were they actually going to be on? I saw how my neighbors treated us when a rumor about the meteors being a terrorist attack spread. The fact I'm here, in this freaking room, confirms it. I was guilty until proven innocent. I can't believe this is happening.

The door slowly creaked open. I could hear a familiar voice. Thank God. I looked toward the door, and it was Conner, Officer Davis. He was talking to my uncle, who was already pleading my case; his arguments were not working this time.

Uncle Ahmed still tried to reason with him. 'You're a parent; you know her.' Officer Davis had the authority to send me home, but I think that would've only caused more problems for me if he did. He had already let his nephew go; he couldn't do that again for me.

I heard Officer Davis say something about needing five minutes alone with me 'to understand', but what was there to understand? Uncle Ahmed wasn't having it. He demanded to be in the room with me; that was the only part I heard clearly. I felt embarrassed. I'd already been here for at least thirty minutes because he was finding ways to frustrate the process.

Officer Davis shut him up by closing the door in his face before he walked toward the table. He dropped a file onto it. Officer Davis didn't look at me once as he took a seat; he smelled slightly metallic. It was blood. The frown on his face let me know he was probably over it like I was; he didn't want to be here. Usually, he'd crack a lame dad joke, but he sat there in silence instead.