Echoes Of An Oversoul--Part 51

DoctorOversoul By DoctorOversoul, 6th Jul 2011 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>True Stories

The law-enforcers' action and unspoken words caused chills to shoot up and down my spine. This is a drama-packed chapter that should not be skipped.

Echoes Of An Oversoul--Part 51

SUDDENLY, THE DETECTIVES ROSE to their feet and made their way to a far corner of the room. They stood there and, after a brief moment, I noticed them whispering and making occasional head nods and hand gestures. From the look of things, they either weren’t going to buy my story or were anticipating cutting me loose.
“Oh, God,” I proceeded to pray in my head, “please don’t let these people prolong this interrogation. I’m tired, stressed, and hungry.”
Suddenly, detective J approached me and said, “Listen, right now we’d like you to make an audio confession. There are a few things we’d like to adjust and clear up.”
“The hell with it!” I objected, “I told ya’ how it went down. I dug deep into my soul. Now I’m drained. The hell with it! You guys told me I have the right to an attorney. But since I’m broke, and can’t afford one, bring Joyce in here. Perhaps she could be my attorney.” I felt a surge of nausea grip my belly. My eyes began to wander frantically around the room. I was waiting and didn’t know what to expect. I’d just thrown a curve ball, and I desired to see where it would land.
“Screw you, buddy!” detective H snapped, “We’ve got some things to clear up, and we want you to make that confession. So far you’ve seen my good side, don’t make me show you my ugly side. ‘Cause I swear you’ll be sorry.”
When you live on the street there are things you learn. One of them is not to volunteer anything to the cops until you had witnesses present. I often schooled others on that rule. But now, here I was, under pressure, and I completely forgot that rule. Damn! I swore to myself. I better do something. I need to try and take control of this situation.
I banged my fist down on the cluttered desk and raged. “Get Joyce or a lawyer in here now!”
Instead of a reaction, there was sudden silence. And without saying a word, the detectives exited the room. It is said that action speaks louder than words. I’ve now been made a believer of that. Their action and unspoken words caused chills to shoot up and down my spine. I squirmed in my chair and tried to rationalize things in my head. The silence that now invaded the room was heavy. I yielded to a sudden outburst of emotion and wept, hysterical sobs of panic that sounded more like laughter than pain.
“This,” I said to myself, “is getting more intense than I had anticipated.”
Fifteen minutes later, the detectives walked in the room, and I noticed one of them carrying a small paper bag. I began surveying them with quizzical eyes. I was now expecting to hear good news. I was waiting for them to tell me that Joyce is here. But as much as I wished, I quickly realized that that wasn’t the case. If Joyce was actually there, she would have entered the room with them.
Suddenly, detective J drew a hamburger and a can of soda out of the bag and set them on the table in front of me. I immediately took his gesture as meaning that they were for me. So I picked up the burger with the hand that was free from handcuffs and dug into it greedily with my teeth. With overstuffed mouth I ate the food rapidly like a madman, and all the while in my head I said to myself, “There’s nothing to worry about…this is all a dream. It’s all a dream.”
Well, at least that’s what I wanted to believe.

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