In It After All

Messed Up Mayhem

Everything was a blue after that. The cops, the shocked faces, Michael. God if I'd just stayed and stuck like Michael had told me to, this wouldn't have happened. I'd be in the bank, with a plastered look of shock on my face like other citizens. Michael had spent 18 months planning this, specific times, locations and all the tiny details. I've ruined it. A lot. Then we stop. The doors open, and there's blinding lights. Oh God, we're here. The station. The only time I ever thought I'd be here is to report something, not being a so-called criminal. As I walk towards the door, there are crowds of strangers pointing and whispering to each other, but I do my best to ignore them and just walk on, continue on.

It's cold inside, and the atmosphere is dirty and strange. Well it's not going to be a party I can tell you that for nothing. They sit me down and I'm getting all sorts of instructions from different officers. The man from the arresting scene suddenly walks up to me.

"Bad girl, eh? Well I don't know what's gonna happen to you, princess, but if it was up to me..." He smirks, and walks off.

Disturbing. I knew there was something about him. I shudder in the icy atmosphere as I think about what would happen if I was alone with him. That can never happen.

"Miss Morgan?"

I glance up to see a stern but somewhat soft gaze fixed upon me. A youngish officer stood there, looking at me. His presence almost soothed me, it was strange because he was the one who would look down upon me on.

"Yes," I croak.

"For now you'll be placed in a holding cell until final decisions have been made. There'll be interviews, questioning and possibly a court case depending on what evidence we have. Is that clear Miss?"

I nod. I can't speak. I'm still in shock I guess. I stand up, which is hard because I still have handcuffs on which is incredibly uncomfortable. I shuffle over to a tiny room, barely bigger than a cupboard. Crouching inside I hear a voice that cannot be mistaken. It's him. He's here.

I can only make out half sentences.

"...Nothing to do with it...Don't understand...No proof or evidence."

He's got to be talking about me. Unless he's brought somebody else into it and he didn't tell me.

It's damp and freezing cold in here. There's a blacked out window but I can see through. They can't see me. There's a few people sat, men in suits, policemen in uniform. Michael's there too. It's funny because I'm not that upset for myself, more for him. He wants to be in prison, he wants to be there. So why am I upset for him? Because I'm in love with him. I couldn't help it. Spending all that time with him, his gaze, his focused mind, his eyes. God, his eyes.

.............................................................................................

Next thing I know I'm awake. There's no clock in here, so there's no way of telling what time it is. I couldn't have been asleep that long. I shakily stand up. The men in suits have gone, there's one policeman sat, alone, staring at security scenes. Clearly he takes his job VERY seriously. I notice a small tray of food on the floor, accompanied by a small glass of watered down milk. Picking it up, I change my mind looking at it, and put it straight back down.

All of a sudden there's an ear piercing screech and the cell door opens. The young officer is standing in the doorway.

"Follow me please Miss. You will now be questioned, and further inquiries will follow if so required."

He doesn't look me in the eye.

I just repeat my nod, and follow him through a series of beaten doors until eventually we reach a small room with a single table and chair.

"Sit there please, an officer will be in soon."

Another nod.