Living London (An AmazingPhil and Danisnotonfire fanfiction)

Chapter 33: Split

*Rachel POV*

The police came promptly, along with a detective and a few paramedics. The sirens wailed brightly as they always did passing along the street. The only difference was that this time, they stopped at my front door.

I let them inside, and they asked if I was the lady who called. I told them that I was, and I told them my name.

I didn't exactly know how to behave around police, detectives, or paramedics. They smiled, though, and nodded in sympathy to my situation. I strongly wished I could return the favor with politeness, and thank them for their coming out to my flat to assess the situation. I couldn't, however, and retreated to the chair that Abby often had sat on. I felt my stomach tighten in memory. I twisted my hands together to preoccupy myself, and wished that the police and the rest of them would understand my lack of attendance.

Dan sat to my side on the sofa. I saw him carefully watching my movements, as if trying to figure out what to do himself. "Will you stop that?" I hissed.

He turned away.

I immediately regretted my actions, but felt even more than before that I couldn't speak. A million things were running through my head, so I turned and stared out the window behind me.

I heard the wind howl, and so I disappeared into my thoughts.

James was only bad because of your experiences. He couldn't have killed Abby. They were happy. She was happy.

Except she wasn't. She had darkness around her eyes, remember? Yes, what could it have been? A black eye. Certainly a black eye.

Remember that time she wouldn't let you in? What was she doing?

I stopped, feeling that it was impossible to find an answer. So I thought of something else.

Remember in middle school when you each matched shirts on that day? You both used to laugh so much in class that the teacher would yell at you both. You, the quiet kid, in trouble for being loud. She was always so genuine, and brought out the best in you. All of that changed. But then you both made up. Things were going to change, but they didn't. There was no chance to. She was killed by someone. Not James, it couldn't have been James.

I felt emotions hit me like a truck. I tried to suck them all in. It was too much to feel. So I didn't.

"Miss Browning?" A voice said.

I looked away from the window and in front of me. There was a man with a clipboard. He looked official.

"Yes?"

"My name is Detective George Johnson. I am sorry for your loss. May I ask you some questions about your roommate?"

"Of course."

He looked over at Dan. "Would you prefer to speak somewhere private?"

I looked at Dan, and back at him. "Yes. Thank you."

Dan looked slightly hurt. "You can go to my room, if you want to stay," I said.

He nodded and left the room.

The detective sat on the couch just a seat over from where Dan was previously sat.

"Miss Browning, what was the name of your roommate?"

"Abigail Parkinson. She is," I paused, realizing my mistake, "Was. An American like myself."

He nodded, jotting down notes on his notepad. I watched him, feeling somewhat awkward, like a teacher giving a lecture to an eager student wishing to ace a test.