Drop Dead Gorgeous 〰 Jake Fitzgerald

20

"This is such bullshit!" I yelled out from the little room they had me in.

"Calm down, Lexa," Sheriff Acosta said over the intercom. I was all alone in that room, and though everyone was watching me, I couldn't see anything except for a mirror.

"Okay," I whispered to myself as I began pacing, running my hands through my hair in hopes that it would somehow calm me down. I shouldn't be this paranoid, but my entire life depended on whatever decision they made for my case. I was not a murderer, and I knew that. But they apparently had way too much evidence on me.

I'd seen these cases before, or at least heard of them. My mom would tell me about how people couldn't be placed in cells unless there was actual proof of their crimes.

Which meant there was evidence of crimes I never even committed. What the hell?

The door opened, causing me to look up instantly.

"Mom-"

"It's Officer Villa to you," she responded so coldly, I almost cried.

"Take a seat, Miss Villa," she harshly asked me, and I quickly obeyed, still in shock at the tone of her voice.

"Mom, I didn't-"

"It says here you were in the building during the Blessed Sisters Orphanage accident, is that correct?"

"Yes, but-"

"And you were seen with... Jake Fitzgerald, is that correct?"

"Mom-"

"What do you want me to do, Lexa? Huh?" she nearly scolded, finally staring at me. "You went against my rules, against the town rules, there's even a page dedicated to exposing your 'killer ways'. What the hell is going on Lexa? What happened to you?"

The last part came out more tender and concerned, instead of just bland like she has to be.

"I don't know. The killer started targeting me out of no where. I swear I didn't do anything, mom, I just-"

"I know, but the police won't just let you go because I believe you. They need evidence. And that's something we don't have."

"Then," I started, trying to keep myself from crying, "that's it. I'm going to jail. My life is over."

A few tears managed to make their way down my cheeks as my mom reached over and held my hand, something she apparently wasn't supposed to do according to everything she had told me about her job.

"I'll do what I can," she finally said, rubbing her thumb on my hand before pulling away and leaving. After that, I had to wait for not any less than half an hour, waiting and contemplating and crying, and basically wondering where the hell I fit into the picture.

"Lexa?" an officer said, opening the door and standing close to it. I was surprised she didn't cringe at my unhumanly ugly self. Honestly, why did they put mirrors in these little rooms? It was like a reminder of how ugly I looked, with my cheeks all blotched up and my nose so red Rudolph would be mad.

"Come with me," she smiled sympathetically as I pulled myself up from the corner I had shrunk myself into.

I followed her, still wondering why I was even here if I was completely innocent. Now I knew what it felt like to be a victim, and I didn't like it. Not a bit.

"Lexa," Sheriff Acosta greeted as I reached his office. I gave a simple nod, taking a seat in one of the two chairs as the lady cop who brought me here politely left and closed the door as Sheriff Acosta sat down in his own chair.