Dabbling in Danger

TV Screen

Fuck!

I hobble over to the rigid bed and crash onto my back. My left pinky toe, pulsating and swollen after the now third time I've wacked it into this god damn nightstand.

Whose bright idea was it to put an oblong obstacle right next to the god damn bathroom anyway!?

"I just want to return to my own fucking home," I spit through clenched teeth, frustrated and over the bullshit.

Francis told me it'd be better off staying in a hotel here in San Denaburg, says it'll make me look better.

There's no way I can be blamed for tampered evidence. No one can claim I was seen near my own fucking home, or talking and plotting with my Malina. Anyone who did, well they'd be a damn liar and in turn making me look a lot better than how I'm currently being perceived.

Francis didn't necessarily put it that way, but he didn't have to I understood loud and clear.

In the morning, I'm to meet with Francis, before the trial begins again he wants me to speak in front of a group of reporters, answer a couple questions to show that I am not this manipulative genius the mass media is trying to make me out to be. I honestly couldn't give two shits what any of these people are saying about me, but Francis knows the game and the only way I'll win is if I strategize and follow the rules...

I'm exhausted just looking out at these quacks with their flashing cameras, spit dribbled microphones and constant yelling over the next.

Francis, beside me raises a hand, leans into the microphone reaching closest to him and looks directly into one of the cameras.

"I understand you all have your concerns, your questions and no I cannot answer them all as you know, but I would like to say this. Mr.Hutchinson is far from the man you've seen slapped around in the tabloids and accused in the papers. He, standing right here beside me is no worse than you or I, he is a human being who strive for just the same as the rest of us: acceptance, understanding, success, love. This is not the face of a monster, but of a man who cares enough to defend for what it right."

Mm, laid it on rather thick if I may say so myself.

"Mr. Hustchinson, Mr.Hutchinson!" The crowd turns to me now, they want to hear it from the horse's mouth.

"Adeen, any comment!?"

I don't have to look to Francis to know he would like me to comment as we've already discussed, this is why I'm here...

Microphone pushed nearly against my mouth I take a breath and nod.

"Sure, I've got a comment..."

Malina

Eighteen year old Malina Walker, is on trial for murdering, her sister Tiana Hutchinson, in cold blood. Though, it is mentioned that she did not commit this act all on her own. It is believed that Adeen Hutchinson, the victim's husband is the puppet master behind all this... More on the case, tonight at nine.

Sasha groans, clicks the TV off and tosses the remote on the floor.

"So, I guess people are gonna think I'm crazy now, right?" I ask, more to myself than Sasha.

She sighs heavily.

"Don't look at it like that, it's just, you got wrapped in a shitty situation and now you're a little sick..."