The Lies She Lived

Chapter 6 - Imani ('Mani)

I shake my head in disbelief while sucking my teeth, trying to contain my anger. I don't know what upsets me more, the fact that he even has access to those very private messages or the fact that he's trying to use them to incriminate me right now.

"Do you not recognize these?" Detective Nelson asks as he spread out the printed messages out in front of me. I look over towards the nearest corner, avoiding the papers laid in front of me.

"What's the point of you having these messages that are years old, and bringing them up right now?" I hiss.

"You tell me, Miss Smith. Do these messages hold any significance?" The smug and fake oblivious look he's giving me right now makes me more irritated.

"Apparently they do, otherwise why dig them the hell up in the first place." I feel the pressure of the room building as my calm and collect exterior quickly deteriorate as a wave of anger and panic washes over me. How the hell did they even discover those messages and why not mention them from the beginning. Is he really trying to connect them to Izzy's murder?

"I told you, Miss Smith, we're looking at any and everything that could give us indications on who could've murdered Isabella." He attempts to say in a reassuring way as if isn't trying to insinuate that I could be capable of causing harm to Izzy let alone do any of the cruel sickening shit her killer did to her.

"Well, I don't like what the hell you're implying by showing me these right now." I'm trying my best to contain the feelings boiling inside of me that are threatening to spill out like a pot full of boiling water on the stove. I want nothing more than to lash out on him right now, just unleash all my rage that's been left from a situation that he understands nothing about, yet that he's trying to question me on right now. But there's a voice in the back of my head repeatedly telling me not to lose it or else things will go from bad to worse. I try the next best option I can think of

"You know what? This 'questioning' is starting to feel more like an interrogation so I'm done here." I sternly say as I quickly stand from my seat, I notice that detective Nelson appears to be taken by surprise for a hot second.

"I was only here to help find Izzy's killer but since you seem to be more interested in her ancient text messages then I see no point in being here."

"If they hold no significant then why are you becoming so defensive about them?" Nelson asks as I make my way to the door. As I'm reaching for the handle I hear him begin to recite some all too familiar words.

"Quote 'I hope you hurt the same way you've made me hurt. I hope you cry the same tears you've made me shed'" I pause for a second, my already pounding heart drops to my stomach.

"Stop it," I say so low that I doubt he even caught it. The words pushing themselves from in between my gritted teeth. I'm balling my hands into tight fists before I even notice and quickly released them, remembering the situation I'm in. The last thing I want is to appear anymore threatening to a cop. That thought went right out the window as soon as the next couple of lines continues to leave his mouth.

"I want you to suffer," Nelson says, purposely adding a venomous tone to the message.

"stop it!" I say much louder as I swiftly turn to face him. He's standing, papers in hand as he reads from the messages as if he's giving a presentation to a class. Hearing those texts that I regret with all my being hurts me. Hearing the self-satisfaction in his voice infuriates me. What type of joy can you get from reading the private messages of a dead girl? Incriminating or not, my angered reaction only seems to fuel him even more.

"and as far as I'm concerned you'd mine as well be dead to me."

"I told you to stop it!" I scream as I walk up to him. I impulsively reached out my arm, only intending on snatching the papers from him but Detective Nelson mistakes my very sudden gesture. My hand doesn't even make contact with the papers before I feel a hard grip on my wrist. I can't process what's happening before my arm gets slammed down on to the table, my body launching forward. I'm bent over the table, the table we were just sitting and conversing at minutes ago. Nelson holds my arm down while he swiftly maneuvers behind me to get to the other side of me. He proceeds to pull my arm behind my back and holds it there. I try struggling from his tight grip but then he grabs my free arm and holds it I'm the same position behind my back.