Your song-Biancalya

five

When they walked into the station they went straight to the front desk. There was a man sitting there with floppy red hair and a beard, he looked around 20 years old. "You're Bianca Blackwell, I'm so sorry for your loss." If only he knew now what he was about to know.

"That's actually what we're here about, I have a confession to make. So does my...girlfriend...Alya Kendrick."

Well that went well, Bianca didn't know what she was to Alya anymore, but since Alya would always be everything to her she said girlfriend. That's not really the point right now though is it? Why was Bianca worrying about Alya being her girlfriend or not when they are about to confess to her dad's murder. Bianca shook inside when she thought that word, "murder," such a cold thing to be wrapped up in, such a terrible thing to have had to do, what a terrible thing to have happened to someone twice. Why was Bianca calling it murder though? She knew it was self defense, but for some reason that word just kept creeping into her mind. The same thought played over and over again until it maddened her. She was crazy to the point she didn't even realize her arm was slowly wrapping around Alya's throat. "Murderer." She whispered, but Alya didn't hear. 

Bianca realized what she was doing then tried to play it off like she was embracing the girl the whole time, but Alya knew better. She saw the look in Bianca's eyes, it was empty, hollow, like how Alya's eyes probably looked when she fired the gun in Bianca's bedroom that night. Murder, Alya thought, I murdered her father. why was Alya thinking like this now, she didn't kill him on purpose, she just meant to hurt him enough he would stop hurting Bianca. They both looked in each others eyes. Bianca knowing what was going through Alya's mind, and Alya knowing what was going through Bianca's. Murder. They had both helped her father be murdered. They were both murderers. 

"Don't think like that, Alya. You didn't kill him. It was self defense, and an accident." Tears welled in Bianca's eyes as they waited in the sheriffs office to be questioned. "He had five bullets in him, I didn't lie to the police, my mom shot him too." Bianca stopped to catch her breath. "That's when I called them, I would never have gotten you involved in this alone. You didn't kill him, Alya, my mother did."

Alya stopped to take this in, waiting for more to be said, but nothing else was. The sheriff walked in a few minutes later and immediately looked at Alya. Alya looked shocked, It was her first foster dad, the one that actually cared about her. "Mr. Adamson?" Alya asked him. "Alya Frothman?" Frothman was Alya's last name before she was adopted by the Kendricks. 

"It's Kendrick now, I got adopted. Their a really nice family, but I'm scared. I did something bad Jay, I did something really bad." Alya burst into tears and Bianca started rubbing small circles on her back. This always calmed her down. 

"Alya, I need you to tell me what you did. I promise it will be okay."

Alya looked up at Bianca with shame filling her eyes, how could Bianca still love her after what she did?

"Bianca's dad was beating her with a baseball bat, I saw so I, I grabbed a gun...I shot him three times. Then her mom shot him once. I've been feeling guilty since it happened but I promise I was only trying to protect Bianca. I love her."

It was official, Alya could never love Kit as much as she loves Bianca, nothing will ever change their love. 

"Alya, that is self defense, but Bianca, you lied to the police, you told us that your mom was the one who shot him. Now I know she fired the kill shot, but Alya was still a part of it, and since you didn't tell us, you withheld evidence. You can claim temporary insanity since you were being beaten at the time and maybe, you will get off easy and spend a few days in the hospital. But there will be consequences." 

Bianca was the one who cried this time, she was so worried about Alya that she didn't even realize that she had lied to the cops, well she did but she didn't think there would be punishment. 

"What do I need to do?"