I stood there emotionless and my hands began to convulse.
"I will kill him."
I gradually started to stand up and glared at the lady's now tedious eyes. I walked across the room feeling blinded.
2 hours later
"Hello Mr. Crocker."
The police man crossed his imposing hands. His hair was moistened with sweat and his billowing stomach was on display underneath his stained shirt. He pulled out his dented badge as if to show me he ruled me. I wasn't intimidated at the least bit. As I walked into the embedded room I caught a glimpse of a lady in the newly polished glass. Her hair was a rich shade of mahogany. It flowed in waves to adorn her glowing, porcelain-like skin. Her eyes, framed by long lashes, were a bright, emerald-green and seemed to brighten the room. A straight nose, full lips that were perfectly coated with blood red lipstick. I knew that lady from somewhere.
"This is your wife?"
" Of COURSE this is my wife!"
The policeman sighed in irritation and stood from his chair. His face now dripped with beads of sweat that hit the blemished wooden floor. His hands were turning haggard and he heaved the chair out from behind him. He had no right to be irritable because it was my wife who just died. My wife. My hands started to churn and my stomach was in knots. The blank emotionless expression swept over my face as the realization of the moment gradually seeped in. I looked into the glass and could actually see the fear that seemed to rise behind my eyes. Like a caged animal, i just sat there. Paralyzed by the feeling of isolation, i closed my eyes and gazed into the field of nothingness. I felt the water slowly creep out of my eyes, as i tried perilously not to cry.
" I will find out who did this to you."
