She Had Ten Seconds

Have a Break; Have a Kit Kat

I almost flinched when everyone started yelling and screaming as they realized that the police officer was dead. I forced myself to keep still, so I could keep up my appearance of sleeping soundly while all this took place. However, my hair was hanging in front of my face, so I figured no one would notice if I opened one of my eyes just a smidge bit. It had been a while since my last hair cut, so I had trouble seeing past the black locks that easily hung to at least my chin, if not my shoulders. I could see enough of what was going on though to keep me satisfied for the time being.

One of the other officers kept shaking the cop on the floor, repeating, "Roger. Roger, wake up!" over and over. I guess that must've been his name. Not his last name though; that was Stevens.

There was a banging on my cell walls and this time I didn't stop myself from jolting up, glancing up at the officer in front of me tiredly. It wasn't hard. I was exhausted. I hadn't slept in a while. I wanted to make sure I was awake when the officer died, so I stayed up all night, not trusting myself to be able to wake up at four in the morning, a good two hours before wake-up call.

"Yeah?"

"Don't fucking sass me, Bones," the officer growled. Pete. The mean one. "This morning's going to be crazy enough as it is, I just need you to tell me what you know."

"I was asleep," I said evenly, biting my tongue to keep myself from telling him to fuck the hell off.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the people in the cell opposite me open their mouth to speak. I made eye contact with them and I didn't even have to give them a look for them to know; if they squeaked, no one was getting out of here until their sentence ended. And right now, I had the keys. I don't think there was a single prisoner in this room that would risk pissing me off right now.

I guess Pete could sense the shift in power in the room, from guards to prisoner. More specifically, me. He narrowed his eyes and sneered at me. He then proceeded to spit on the floor in front, which I must, was kinda impressive. I mean, the cells weren't huge, but they were big enough that almost hitting me with his spit shouldn't have possible. Pete kicked the bars hard as he could, and I remained still. No way in hell was I letting this bastard get a reaction out of me. I was not letting him get the satisfaction.

"I know it was you, you little shit," Pete spat. "I know you took the fucking keys. Hand them over, now, and I won't increase your sentence."

"You don't have the authority to do that." At least, I hoped not.

Pete slammed his fist into the bars. I could tell it was really pissing him off that he was hitting the bars and not me. "Don't fucking talk back to me shithead!"

"Pete, calm down, we need to move the body," one of the other officers-there were a lot by now, at least ten or so-said, grabbing Pete's shoulder.

Pete shrugged his hand off. "Fine. But I want someone to keep an eye on this one."

Shit. Fucking shit. I wanted to throw something, scream, tear my hair out, something. Sure, I'd be out of here in two months, but my life here was shit. I wanted out now and here Pete was taking away that chance. I sat there though and smiled at the lady who walked over and gave me a sympathetic smile.

"I'll watch the kid, you guys go ahead," she offered, although something in her voice sounded like it was more of an offer than the suggestion she made it seem like.

One by one all the other officers filed out, until it was just her. I stretched out and let out a huge yawn. God, I was so tired. I let my eyes close for a second, but snapped them back open when I felt eyes on me. The officer was watching me, almost protectively, like I heard mothers do with their kids. I didn't know her. I'd never seen her before. But I liked her.