The Dead Girls Best Friend

"Tessa?" The man across from me asked, in an uninterested tone, his eyes never straying from my face, waiting for me to speak.

His eyes finally left mine, to glance down at the watch that accompanied his wrist. I took the opportunity, to look closely at him.

He was attractive enough for someone around there mid forties. His hair was neatly combed, with grey roots. His eyes were a dark chocolate brown that held so much irritation.

I scoffed. This was his fucking job, was it not? He had no right to be irritated, especially not at a girl who just found her best friend dying, not even 24 hours ago.

I wanted to tell- no I wanted to scream. I wanted to show this man, this fuck wad, that he did not have the right to be irritable.

Anger radiated off of me like a kicked bull. I glared at him, my eyes narrowing into slits.

And boy, did he feel the rays of my heated glare. Because now, his eyes mirrored mine.

"Id advise you show some respect to your officers." He says on the edge of a snarl.

"My best friend is dead, you insensitive ass!" I shot back at him with no intention to bite back my fiery.

"I need a statement of what you saw." He says bored, I swear if he wouldn't be jeopardized his job, he'd roll his eyes.

"Shes dead." I said, dodging his statement. I couldn't handle saying what I saw- much less in detailed description.

But he was persistent in pressing the issue.

"Ma'm, I need you to describe to me what happened."

I exploded from my seat, throwing my hands up the air, exasperatingly.

"I sat in a puddle of her blood as she bled to death in her own bathroom!" I yell desperately trying to communicate that I was done with his bull shit.

He has the liberty to plop down into his chair, with a deep sigh of annoyance like I was such a hassle.

I take the opportunity to storm towards the doors and slam it shut, but not before throwing the bird over my shoulder.

I can only hope that I never have the displeasure of seeing that bastard ever again.