Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 22: Bolt

“Fayth?” a voice groaned, “Wake up.

“No,” I sighed, cuddling closer to David’s side

“Come on Fayth, you get to go home today,” a new voice said that sounded distinctly female and chipper.

Nurse Lauren, I growled in my head.

“Go away,” I grumbled.

“Nuh-uh; I let you guys sleep together. Now the least you can do is wake up so we can discharge you. And the police want to talk to you again,” she continued, patting my leg.

I pried my eyes open and glared at her. She ignored my glare and took care of the IV attached to me while David sat up and let go of me, sliding off the tiny hospital cot.

“Why do they want to talk to me again?” I rubbed my eyes tiredly, thankful I could move my hands freely without having tubes and stuff attached to me.

“They have more things to tell you and ask you,” Lauren shrugged, “I’ll let them in and you can talk now so you can leave earlier.”

And without waiting for permission she went outside and came back in a minute later with the same two cops from yesterday. I sighed.

“Excuse me son, we would like to speak to her—”

“He can stay,” I interrupted, folding my arms over my chest.

“Really we insist—” the short cop started.

“I don’t care. He can stay if he wants,” I glared. David chuckled and sat back down next to me, arm around my shoulders.

“Fine.” The fat cop said, returning my glare for a second before he composed his face, “We went to your house last night…did you lock the front door the night you were stabbed?”

I frowned, “I always lock the door. I’m pretty sure I did.”

“I’m afraid the door was not locked. We couldn’t find any evidence of it having been picked or any evidence of someone being in your house at all,” the short cop said, eyebrows raised.

“Meaning?”

“I know it’s hard being a teenager sometimes and you don’t always have someone to talk too but we can help you if you ever—"

“Hold up!” I waved hands in the air, “Are you insinuating I tried to kill myself?” I cried.

“It is a possibility, miss. If there was no evidence in the house and you and your friend David were the only ones at the scene…” the heavy set cop continued.

“Uh it’s so not a fucking possibility! I do not want to kill myself. And have you not thought about the impossibility of that? If I had stabbed myself where was the knife I used? And don’t say I hid it because if I had hidden it there would have been a bloody trail leading to wherever I hid it,” I snapped. Yes I had tried to kill myself a few times and yes I'd thought about it more than I should have in my life but I didn’t want to do it, not anymore. And I hated that they had brought it up.

“We are just trying to consider all the possibilities. We know your mother died and your house was empty so we assumed—”

“Don’t you dare start assuming anything. You don’t even know me!” I said venomously. David rubbed my arm, leaning his lips down to my ear.

“Calm down Fayth,” he said soothingly, “Don’t even bother. It’s not worth it.”

I took a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. “Look. I always the lock the door and double check that it’s locked; I was distracted that day. I was tired and I wasn’t feeling well so yes it’s a possibility that maybe I forgot to lock the door but maybe this guy was just a really good criminal. It’s possible to commit a crime and not leave any evidence…or any evidence that you would pick up.”