fuck boy ;

twenty-one

Sophie

Three days I have been in this horrid prison cell. I'm alone in a single cell with only a bed, sink and toilet combo, a metal seat, and a small square table. The bed isn't even an actual bed. It only consists of a thin green mattress and a single dark green pillow. I have a window but I don't see much; I mostly see what I can't have at the moment.

I was supposed to be here for only a day but no, I've been here for a weekend and will be for longer, probably. Samuel supposedly is getting harder to find than expected, so they've kept me back here. My drug test came back with flying colours, showing I have no drugs in my system. There's no reason for me to be here, even the officer that was interrogating me agrees, but he can't let me go without Samuel being proved guilty. I've tried getting a call out of him but he hasn't granted me the wish, yet.

"Harrison, get up."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion as I walk up to the door and look through the gated block to be met with the kind eyes of my interrogation officer, "Where am I going?"

"Samuel was found, overdosed on the drugs we found in your car. And after getting his fingerprints and checking the fingerprints on the bag we found that they matched."

"Oh. my. god. Are you serious? Thank you so much!"

The officer unlocks the cell door in a swift motion with a pleased smile. The door opens revealing my weary stance to him. He shakes his head softly with a smile before grabbing my forearm and pulling me out of the cell. We arrive moments later at the desk they checked me into. The officer begins asking for 'Harrison, Sophie' records and files so I can be signed out. He hands me the papers with a pen which I respond to by signing quickly and messily.

"Okay, Miss. Harrison, you are free to go." He states happily as he hands me my purse from the day I got arrested.

"Thank you sir. I'll be sure to bring you some donuts."

He chuckles quietly as he meets eyes with me. My teeth chew on my cheek as I examine his expression and eyes. They're a brown I've never seen before. I don't like it.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty three."

"Okay cool," A soft sigh exhales from my mouth as I bite my bottom lip, "I'll see you around. My numbers in my records, by the way."

"See you around, beautiful."